Florescent
by kts
Summary: In a dystopian future, Bella runs away from an arranged marriage that she knows will be her undoing. When she meets Edward, she has to decide whether he's an even greater threat to her independence, or the key to creating a life she'd never thought possible. AU.
1. Chapter 1

There were so many girls – way too many girls for any of the men to notice me. I didn't stand out when I was alone in a room, and in this crowd of at least sixty other students, I was sure I could pass unnoticed. Mrs. Bond had told me my eyes were my best feature, so I kept them assiduously on the floor, staying as far toward the back as I could, trying to find taller girls to stand behind. At seventeen, however, I was one of the oldest, and the few taller girls were clustered at the other end of the room.

"Gentlemen," Mrs. Bond cleared her throat and gestured toward us with one arm. "This year's Presentation is one that I'm sure you'll enjoy. You'll recognize many familiar faces, and a few new ones. A lovely crop of girls, if I say so myself."

Crop. Jesus, could she at least spare us the clumsy metaphors?

She continued with a dramatic flourish toward her right. "Here's our lovely Maria. She's fourteen already, can you believe it? How time flies." Maria was the prettiest girl in school, and she knew it because Mrs. Bond told her almost daily. I peeked up and watched as Maria managed a small smile, looking nervously at the group of men seated in a semi-circle in front of us.

"Only fourteen, Hanson," I heard one man say, turning to his neighbor. "Maybe we should change the rule."

I didn't hear Hanson's answer but they enjoyed a laugh together. Maria's smile vanished and she bit her lip, looking like she wished she could disappear. I felt for her strongly in that moment, and tried to imagine what it would be like to be one of the pretty ones. Horrible, that's what.

"And here's Sylvia," Mrs. Bond continued, moving through the girls. She pulled Sylvia out of the group and brought her forward. "I know some of you remember her from last year and she's only improved since then. Such a hard worker, our Sylvia."

The Deacon of the American Church stood. "Sylvia, how old are you now?"

"Sixteen, sir."

"Sixteen. One more year."

"Yes, sir."

"And how go your studies?"

"Very well, sir." Sylvia'd been through enough of these Presentations to know what was expected. She smiled demurely. "I got an A in Deference last term, and a B in Cooking."

The Deacon frowned. "Only a B?"

Sylvia nodded and swallowed. "I made a mistake on the final test, changing metric measurements into standard. I'm not very good at math."

"Of course you're not," he smiled condescendingly. "Do you still want to be a cook?"

"Yes sir, very much."

"Do you think you could handle cooking for a large amount of people? Sometimes that requires taking a recipe written for a small amount of people and multiplying it to feed more."

My jaw tightened involuntarily at his tone. Sylvia wasn't the brightest girl here, but she wasn't dumb.

"Oh yes, sir. I can do multiplication, if I try hard enough." She did get an A in Deference, after all.

"Very good." The Deacon sat. "I'll be looking for you next year, Sylvia."

"Yes, sir."

Sylvia beat a hasty retreat back into a cluster of her friends, as Mrs. Bond continued to go through the ranks, pulling out girls and touting their virtues. The younger ones seemed confused and embarrassed. Most of the older ones, however, had been here long enough to know the game. They smiled and flirted, batted their lashes and blushed. Patricia was the most obvious, and I did innumerable mental eye-rolls as she went through her Presentation, but I didn't mind. The men were eating it up, and if that meant she were chosen instead of me, all power to her.

"And next, we have a new student this year, but one that's of age. Bella, where are you?" Mrs. Bond was on the other side of the room, scanning our faces. I knew there was no way to hide once she'd singled me out.

"I'm right here." I stepped out and moved to the front.

"This is Bella," Mrs. Bond smiled at me for the first time ever. "She's only been with us for a year, so she's still rough around the edges." That was putting it mildly. "But like I said, she's seventeen and available. Introduce yourself, Bella."

I looked at the men gathered in front of us. Mrs. Bond and the other teachers had just spent a year coaching me for this event, but I hadn't earned an A in Deference. Far from it. I could get the words they wanted me to say out of my mouth, and I could smile, but I couldn't bring myself to do both simultaneously.

"My name is Bella. I'm seventeen."

"We know that," one of the men said. "Tell us about yourself. What do you like to do?"

I was supposed to smile and admit to a love of housekeeping and small children, but it just wasn't in me to lie. "I like botany."

"Gardening, you mean? Flowers?" Another man asked. That was as far as they could imagine a girl's interest in plants taking her.

"No, I mean the science of plants. How they cross-pollinate, specifically." I watched them raise their eyesbrows collectively as they tried to make sense of my words, and a small smile of amusement rose on my face.

Another man called out, "You're very pretty when you smile."

"You should smile more, Bella," someone else agreed.

Nothing could make me drop a smile faster than being told it made me pretty. The haste with which I returned to a blank expression amused another, and I heard chuckling. "I don't think she likes us, gentlemen."

One of the men stood, and I recognized him immediately. John Norris was one of the town's largest landowners, whose holdings included a sizable dairy farm. He'd gone to school with my dad, and they'd maintained their friendship over the years with annual fishing trips. "Does your interest in plants extend to animals?"

Was he imagining me working on his farm, helping him with his herd? Didn't he recognize me as his friend's daughter, the girl who used to dig worms for them before they left?

"No, I'm not interested in animals. Except digging for worms, I guess." There, that should remind him, and hopefully shame him into sitting back down.

No such luck. "Ah, yes, Charlie was very indulgent and let you have your own garden. I remember that now." He put his hands in his pockets and looked me over more thoroughly. "Working on a farm would at least get you outdoors." He said it like I should be appreciative.

"I already feel like I'm on a farm."

"How so?"

"Because I think you're all pigs." I heard an audible gasp rise from the students behind me.

Mrs. Bond rushed to my side and swatted my head. "She needs more work. I'm so sorry, gentlemen. I'll have her straightened out by next year."

Another man stood, a man that looked familiar. "But she is seventeen, correct?"

Mrs. Bond's expression turned fawning. "Yes, she's legal. Difficult, but legal."

"I don't mind difficult."

Who was this man? How did I know him?

"In fact," he continued, "I rather like difficult." He took a couple of steps forward and I got a better look at him.

My eyes widened in surprise. It was Barrow. Simon Barrow, president of the local American Bank. He'd foreclosed on Charlie last year, sending my father into bankruptcy, sending me here. I hated him.

He didn't seem to hate me, however, his eyes moving up and down my body appreciatively. "You've filled out nicely."

How dare he look at me that way? I might not have passed Deference, but it wasn't because I hadn't learned the rules. Rule number one was that ladies must never curse. "Fuck you."

A cacophony of groans filled the room, both from the men and the girls. Apparently I'd crossed a line, and Mrs. Bond moved toward me again, her arm raised.

"No, leave that to me." Barrow's words stopped her in her tracks. "I'll take her."

Fuck, no. I looked at Barrow with all the hatred I could muster. He smiled back at me, his thin lips pulling up, something telling around his smile. Had he planned this? I knew he already had three wives, but for some godforsaken reason had he decided that I was to be his fourth? Is that why he'd foreclosed on Charlie? To put me here? To make me available? I decided to find out.

"Was this your plan all along, Barrow? Was this why you jacked up my dad's mortgage payment so high that he couldn't pay it?"

Barrow tilted his head and gave me a small smile. "Now, now, my pretty thing. It's not for you to worry about business matters."

"It is if it's my dad's house, if it's my home." I glared at him. "And I'm not a thing."

"Your home is going to be with me from now on. That's all you need to worry about."

"The hell it is. I'd rather die than go with you."

He tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, you and I are going to have so much fun together. Such spirit." His eyes had a nasty gleam when he returned his gaze to my face. "You'll fight me tooth and nail, won't you?"

"We aren't going to have anything, because I'm not going with you. Didn't you hear me?"

I looked to Mrs. Bond to back me up. She'd always assured us that if we were chosen by someone we didn't like, we could refuse. She was smiling at Barrow, however, looking as pleased as possible. I started to get a sick feeling, and made fists with my hands. My palms were sweating.

"I'll pick her up in the morning, Mrs. Bond. Please have her ready at nine."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Barrow. She'll be ready to go."

Mrs. Bond took my elbow, not making eye contact as she snapped out a hasty command under her breath. "Go to your room and stay there. I'll be up after I'm done with the other girls."

I was glad to go, horrified that although I'd tried my hardest to go unnoticed, and then offended every man who'd spoken to me, I'd still been the first chosen. Someone gave me a quick hard shove as I worked my way through the girls toward the door, and Patricia shot me a look that would have wilted a lesser person. "I can't believe you were chosen before me."

There wasn't any point in answering her. I couldn't believe it either.

**A/N: Hi everyone - I hope you're ready for story #3! I got the basic idea this spring during the healthcare debate in the US and the so-called 'war on women.' I started imaging what the country would be like in fifty years if certain of our political and media leaders got everything that matched their rhetoric. It wasn't pretty. I don't mean this to be a political statement, but I do have my opinions and they'll no doubt become obvious as the story continues.**

**I'd also been toying with the idea of attempting to write Edward as a vampire. Turns out it's fun. **

**And lastly, I only have about a fourth of it written so far, and I'm way out of my comfort zone posting before I've completed it, but I wanted to challenge myself there, too.**

**Oh, and I'm posting this without a beta, so any and all mistakes are on me. Hopefully I learned enough from the wonderful women who beta'ed The Western that it will still be readable.**

**All right, enough about me. I hope you liked the first chapter, and I'll try to get the next one up soon.**

**- kts**


	2. Chapter 2

The next hour was the longest of my life. I sat numbly on my bed watching the clock tick off minutes, as if it were an hourglass dripping grains of sand, each tick bringing me closer to an impossible end.

Barrow. He'd done it on purpose, I just knew it. Dad had never missed a payment, had never even been late, but last summer the Bank sent him a letter citing some deeply-buried language in his loan papers that gave them the right to hike his payments. He'd done everything he could, but there was no getting around it. Three months later, he'd lost the house.

Not just his house, but his business, too. He'd run a well-respected car repair shop out of our garage, but when he lost the house, he became officially unemployed. That gave the government the right to take me away from him and to put me here, in the Forks Home for Girls. Dad and I used to pass this building every day on our walk to school, and I'd asked him once when I was about six what the FHG emblazoned above the gate stood for.

"It stands for 'I Fucking Hate the Government,'" he'd answered, smiling down at me and putting a hand on my head. "I fucking hate it."

"I fucking hate it, too."

"Good girl."

My stomach tightened as I thought of Charlie. The unemployed were assigned work, and he'd been forced to take a job at the sawmill. He now had to help cut down the forests he'd loved so much as a child, and I – I was supposed to marry the man who'd done all of this to us.

The Presentations were a farce. None of the men were looking for employees, although they couched their questions in that language. They were looking for new wives, and if they happened to get lucky and find a girl who might also make herself useful in their line of work – well, that was a bonus. For them.

Barrow hadn't gone that route, however. He hadn't asked me anything about myself. He didn't want me so that he could put me to work over his balance sheets. He'd only looked at my body. I shuddered, remembering his words about liking difficult people and wrapped my arms around myself, still staring at the clock.

I heard movement in the hallway, and then voices. Mrs. Bond's voice rose above the others and a second later she entered the room.

I knew with one glance that any hope I'd harbored that she would let me refuse Barrow was wishful thinking. The scowl on her face was one I'd seen many times before, but this time she also looked relieved.

"You." Her tone was accusing. "Of all the impertinent, disgraceful displays I've ever seen. I'd thrash you within an inch of your life if you weren't leaving tomorrow."

I couldn't help myself. I needed her to say the words, to admit that she'd lied to us. "I can't refuse Barrow's offer?"

"Of course not. Why would you even want to?"

"Because I hate him." I rose from the bed and clenched my fists. "He's the reason I was put here in the first place."

"He's the richest man in town. You have no idea how lucky you are."

"He's a sadistic old pervert."

"He's actually perfect for you." Her look of anger changed to one of contemplation. "I've never had a student more in need of a firm hand. I was sure you'd be here longer, and I wasn't looking forward to it."

"You can't get rid of me fast enough, can you? You'd have let anyone choose me."

"I try to match my girls as much as possible. But when it comes down it, when a man's made his choice, there's really nothing I can do."

"Why do you lie to the girls? Why don't you tell them truth?"

She took her eyes off me and glanced around the room. The three sets of bunk beds were neatly made, the floor spotless, every surface immaculately dusted. The sight seemed to give her comfort and she pulled herself more upright.

"There's no point in upsetting the younger ones. Somehow, by the time they're seventeen, they already know. Besides," she turned back to me, her eyes really looking into mine for the first time, "what I do isn't that different than what the government does. At least I make an effort to find out each girl's interests."

"You told me to say I like cleaning and children," I countered.

"I told you to say that because that's what they like to hear, and at seventeen, I thought you'd be taken in a heartbeat if you could have managed it. But of course, that was too much to hope for. Barrow did us both a huge favor tonight."

"It's one thing to lie to get rid of a legal girl you don't like, but what about Maria? What if someone like Barrow picks her three years from now? What if he does come back for wife number five?"

"That won't happen. She'll go to someone who appreciates her gentleness."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been doing this for twenty years, Bella. I believe that I know how to run my school."

School – that was another issue I'd have loved to have at with her. There was nothing resembling education happening under this roof. We spent most of our time doing chores, and the few classes we were taught were on subjects like Deference, Cookery, Child Care, and Men's Needs. The public school Charlie used to walk me to every morning wasn't much better, the girls segregated from the boys and taught different subjects, but Charlie had spent hours with me after I got home, pulling out his old college textbooks and teaching me himself. I knew what an education was supposed to look like, and the Forks Home for Girls wasn't it.

I decided to let that one slide, however. The important thing was that I wasn't going with Barrow. But, I realized as I looked at Mrs. Bond's complacent face, staying here wasn't an option either. I had to fix this myself.

I sat back down on my bed as Mrs. Bond continued rattling instructions at me, telling me to pack my things tognight, and to be up early so that I could bathe thoroughly. She seemed to take my silence for acquiescence and it wasn't long before she left the room. The other girls slipped in as soon as she opened the door to let herself out.

Each room had just one older girl, who was theoretically in charge of the younger girls who shared it. I knew my roommates liked me because I didn't care a fig how well they did their chores or obeyed the rules. I never shushed them at night, and didn't even care if the two youngest ones, Amanda and Melissa, slept together in Melissa's bed for comfort. In return, they knew to give me space when I needed time to think.

They watched me now in silence as I pulled my suitcase out of the closet and opened it on my bed. I already knew what I was going to do, but I wasn't quite sure how. The few dresses I had hanging in the closet went into the suitcase first. I wouldn't be needing them. What I needed was a pair of jeans and some shoes. The only footwear we were allowed here were slippers, and I knew I wouldn't get far in them. I needed a coat, too, perferably a waterproof one. I realized suddenly that all the clothes I needed were the ones I'd been wearing when I was brought in. I wondered if Mrs. Bond kept them, and if so, if I could find them tonight without disturbing anyone.

"Bella?" That was Melissa's voice, and I turned to her.

"What?"

"Are you really going?"

"I have to. Why do you ask? Can't you see that I'm packing?" I kept my voice teasing. Mrs. Bond was right, there was no reason to upset young children.

"Because you said you'd rather die than go with that old man, that's why."

I might die, I realized, if I couldn't outfit myself better. The weather in June was still cool and damp, and the nights could drop well into the forties. "Hannah?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"You just came here a few weeks ago. Do you remember what Mrs. Bond did with the clothes you were wearing? Does anyone remember?" I'd been such a state of shock during my own intake that I hadn't been paying a whit of attention.

"I think she sent them back to my mother."

"You do?"

Hannah nodded and Erica agreed. "She told me she was going to do that, too."

Shit. If Mrs. Bond had sent my clothes back to Charlie, then they were probably long gone. Charlie lived in a dormitory at the sawmill now, and I knew he wasn't allowed to have any personal items. Wait. He'd put all our things into a storage facility after he lost the house. If I could just get there ...

"Okay, girls. Time to start getting ready for bed. Try to keep it down tonight, okay? I have to be up early."

"Will we see you in the morning, Bella?"

"I don't know." They wouldn't. I'd be long gone. "Why?"

"So we can say good-bye."

"Let's say our good-byes now just in case." Each of the girls gave me a big hug, and I was more than little touched by how sad they were that I was leaving. Melissa even wiped her eyes after she was done hugging me, and asked me to write her a letter some day.

"I'll try, Melissa. I promise." It wasn't unheard of for a letter to arrive from one of the 'graduates,' but I didn't want to send anything that would have a postmark showing my whereabouts. "If I can, I will."

It wasn't long before the girls were in bed, and they fell asleep quickly tonight, the excitement of the Presentation having taken its toll. I lay in bed for several hours, watching the clock, wondering when it would be safe to get up. Finally, at midnight, I made my move. The sun rose early this time of year, around five, and I had to be well out of town by then.

I kept my pajama pants on. They were the only pants we were allowed to wear, so they'd just have to do. My slippers would have to do as well. We all had jackets, but they were downstairs in the front hall, and I didn't want to risk going down. Instead, I pulled on my one sweater, a thin cotton cartigan, and zipped it up to my neck.

I moved to the window and eased it open slowly, making sure it didn't squeak. There was a rain gutter outside our room that I was pretty sure I could climb down.

Simon Barrow might have ruined my father's life, but he wasn't going to ruin mine.

**A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for your interest in the first chapter! I'm so glad you liked it. I'm sorry that I don't have time to respond to individual reviews, but to those who asked if Edward's a vampire in this story, the answer is yes (!). I do try to answer all my PM's, though, so feel free to write me if you have any questions.**

**Happy 4th of July to my American readers, and, well, Happy 4th Day of July to everyone else, too.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh Charlie, bless your crazy, crazy heart," I whispered.

I'd managed to get to the storage facility and had easily bypassed the security code, knowing it had to the one he always used – my name and birthdate. Once in, I'd found his old camping gear and some clothes, but what really got me was the amount of food he'd stored.

Boxes full of canned food, pallets of water bottles. He'd been going a little off the deep end the last couple of years, his distrust of the government evolving into full-on paranoia. What started out as an earthquake preparedness kit in the corner of the garage had bloomed into a year's provisions that he kept in the basement. He was kind of a pack-rat, too, and it didn't surprise me that he'd kept it all even after he'd lost the house. I used to tease him good-naturedly about the growing pile of cans and bottles, but now I wished there was a way to thank him, to let him know how invaluable his horde had turned out to be.

There was no way I could go to the sawmill to say good-bye. Not only was it too far away, visitors had to pass through security. As I filled my backpack with as many items as I could carry, I wondered if it would be safe to leave Charlie a note, but I quickly decided against it. The police could search here if they were looking for me, and if I left a note, they might suspect Charlie of helping me escape. I wanted him know that it was me who'd taken his things, though, and not some random burglar.

My eyes landed on a box that said chocolate syrup. Really, Charlie? In the End Times, was he planning to make himself chocolate milk and ice cream sundaes? Then I remembered how much I'd loved it as a kid, and realized he'd stockpiled it for me. I pulled out a bottle, opened it, and squeezed out the letters "FHG" onto the floor. He'd know it was me. A drop escaped as I capped it, and I caught it with my finger. The taste immediately brought back memories of my childhood, and I added the bottle to my backpack, the only memento I could bring.

I slipped out of the storage unit, relocked the door, and ducked my way through town. Surveillance cameras were posted at every intersection, but I wasn't worried about them. Yes, I was running away, and soon they'd have the proof they needed, but by then it would be too late. I was more afraid of encountering someone who'd stop me and want to know what I was doing out at this hour. Women had a nine o'clock curfew, one that was enforceable by any male. The streets were empty at this hour, however, and I got through town unseen. It wasn't long before I entered the outskirts of the forest, and I picked up my pace, knowing I only had a few hours until daylight. I had to get as far away as possible.

I guessed it was around noon when I finally stopped because the sun was right above me. I also guessed I'd gotten a good seven or eight miles into the forest. It felt safe to take a break and eat something. I collapsed onto a fallen tree trunk and pulled off my backpack.

No. This couldn't be happening. I looked again. I searched every crevice. I'd hiked in with all these cans of food, cans that had been growing heavier with each step, but Charlie's cooking kit didn't have an opener. I searched again. Come on, Charlie, you leave me all this food but no can opener? I found a Swiss Army Knife and although it didn't have an opener, it did have several strong blades. I hit the can as hard as I could and was able to puncture it, but I didn't seem to have the strength I used to, and I couldn't work the top off, or even open a hole big enough to get any stew.

This was Mrs. Bond's fault, I thought, as I tipped the can and sucked at the fluid inside. There was no physical exercise for the girls at FHG, and I'd grown weak in the nine months I'd been there. I'd noticed as much during my hike this morning. Although the terrain thus far had been fairly flat, the few inclines I'd hiked had winded me. I wondered if I had any serious climbs to worry about and fished out Charlie's old map from when this was the Olympic National Park. It was private land now, sold years ago to a logging and drilling consortium, but I was hoping the hiking trails were still functional.

I had no idea where exactly I was on it, but I was pretty sure I knew which way to head. If I could hook up with a particular trail which should appear if I headed south, then I could get to Lake Quinault in another thirty miles or so. That meant at least two, maybe three more days of hiking. I looked at the backpack. I had enough water to get me to the lake, but I was going to have to figure out a way to open these damn cans. The longer I went without food, the weaker I'd get and the harder it'd be to do.

I went at the first one again with the knife. This time I managed to pry up enough of the lid that I could get some stew. It took forever, the bigger chunks clogging the hole and having to be repeatedly shaken down, but I managed to consume almost all of it. I dropped it to the ground and opened another. Again, it took all of my energy to get it open, but at least I got some nourishment in return.

I opened a water bottle and took a swig, wondering what to do with the two near-empty cans. Charlie'd impressed upon me the importance of not littering, but I couldn't see carrying them with me. They still had chunks of stew inside and would leak into my backpack. I decided to bury them. This wasn't hallowed ground any more, after all. The polluters had it now, and they could have some of my pollution in exchange.

I trudged on, keeping one eye on the sky, what little smidges of it I could see from under the trees. The sky was growing overcast, but it didn't look like it was going to rain. When I judged it late afternoon, I found a perfect spot to camp, and set up my tarps, one on the ground and the other propped up with sticks, like a lean-to. Charlie's tent had clearly been too bulky to bring, but I quickly second-guessed my decision not to pack a sleeping bag. As night began to fall and the temperature began to dip, it grew cold. Too cold. I needed more clothes, and pulled out Charlie's old work jumpsuit. I'd thought back in the storage unit that this would work as a kind of sleeping bag, since it was lined, and I'd been right. As soon as I zipped it up, I felt much warmer. And it smelled like him.

The next day was worse. It was rainy, cold, and I could feel myself getting weaker with every step. If I was going to keep up this pace, I'd need more food. Without the sun to guide me, I had no idea what time it was, but I realized it didn't matter. If I was hungry, I didn't have to wait until noon to eat. I ripped open a pouch of freeze-dried mango and battled with another can of stew. It wasn't much, and I didn't feel full, but I knew I had to ration my supplies. I should have enough to get me to Seattle, but there was no telling yet how long it would take me to get there. The map had shown several large grades I'd have to climb, and I could only hope I'd be up to the task.

As I continued, I began to scour the forest floor with my eyes. It wasn't long before I found some salmonberries. They were still a little hard and a little bitter, but I plucked as many as I could, devouring them with gratitude, wondering what else I could find. One of Charlie's books had been a treatise on native plants, and I used to read it for fun. I tried to remember what was edible this time of year. Certain mushrooms, I knew, but mushrooms were tricky. For each variety of edible ones, there seemed to be two or three copycats that were poisonous. I kept my eyes on the ground as I continued hiking, quickly recognizing salal, nettles, and coltsfoot. None of the salal had set fruit yet, and I wasn't desperate enough yet to challenge the spiny foliage of the other two, but it was reassuring to know the plants were there.

Charlie'd grown up camping in these woods with his parents, but he'd never taken me. By the time I was old enough to go, the land had been sold and the campgrounds closed. This was the first time I'd ever been out here, but all those nights he'd tucked me in with yet another retold story of his childhood adventures were paying off. The landscape felt familiar. There were plants here I could eat if I had to, and I knew I wouldn't starve to death.

Thirst was a potential problem, however. I was no longer sure I'd brought enough water. The bottles were heavy, and Charlie had made it sound like there were rivers and streams at every turn, so I'd only packed six. I was on my third bottle already, and Lake Quinault was still two days away. I looked up at the darkening sky. Tonight when I camped, maybe I could figure out a way to capture rainwater.

I looked up again. I'd stopped under dense tree cover for shelter, but off to my left, up a small rise, was a clearing. I left my pack and walked up the incline, hoping to spot a river or lake. Nothing. Just a meadow. I turned to head back when suddenly I was laying facedown in the grass.

For a split-second I wondered if I'd tripped, but then I realized I'd been hit by something, something big, and my next thought was that I was about to be mauled by a bear or a mountain lion. I hadn't sensed anything approaching me, but whatever it was, it was strong. I heard its heavy breath in my ear and I closed my eyes, praying that this would be quick and painless.

Several seconds passed, yet nothing happened. I opened my eyes and was astonished to see a human hand rather than a paw holding down my right arm. Oh, no. That was almost worse than an animal. Either I'd already been tracked by the police, or someone else was out here, someone who didn't seem to have the best of intentions. The man's grip on my arm was tight, so tight that he was hurting me. I flexed my fingers, still trying to figure out what was happening, when he spoke.

"Don't move."

His voice was right in my ear. I felt him taking deep breaths, his mouth so close that his face must have been in my hair. He made no movement himself other than to burrow his head closer. He was still breathing heavily, almost in gulps. If it hadn't seemed so surreal, I'd have though he was smelling me.

He was. "You smell so good. How is it possible for you to smell so good?"

It sounded like he was talking to himself, so I didn't answer. I'd been in the woods for two days and knew I didn't smell good. This person was obviously crazy. I was alone in the woods, pinned down by a crazy man. This wasn't going to end well. My knife was down the hill in my pack and I had no way to defend myself. Charlie'd told me once if I were ever attacked, to fight back as hard as I could. Instinctively, though, I knew I didn't have a chance physically against this man. He was a hundred times stronger than me, and I was weak and tired from hiking. Charlie'd also told me that if I couldn't fight, I should start talking and not stop until the attacker began to see me as a person, not a faceless victim.

I had no idea what to say, but I opened my mouth to start.

"I said don't move. Your life depends on it." The man's grip on my arm tightened, and I winced involuntarily. He was going to break it if he squeezed any tighter. I closed my mouth and listened as he took another deep breath. His breathing then began to slow and eventually still to the point that I couldn't hear it. I couldn't feel him inhaling any more, either. His grip was still firm, but he slowly began loosening his hand, and I felt him lift his head out of my hair. I watched as he opened his hand and spread his fingers, releasing my arm. He seemed to be struggling to let go of me, like part of him didn't want to. The part that did want to won, however, and after another second or two, he pushed off my back and was gone as fast as he'd appeared.

I lay there for a minute, trying to get my breath back, trying to compose myself. What had just happened? I sat up. There was no one in sight, in any direction. The clearing wasn't that big, and it wouldn't have been difficult for him to disappear quickly into the woods, but he was gone so fast and so silently that if weren't for my sore arm, I'd have wondered if I'd imagined the whole thing.

**A/N: Kind of a short chapter, but it felt like a good place to end it. Now, who ever could have knocked her down?**

**One reviewer commented that the title was possibly misspelled, and I want to thank her for mentioning that because I'd meant to explain that 'florescent' is fancy talk for being in bloom, or flourishing. This story has nothing to do with fluorescent lighting … at least not yet :)**

**Someone else asked how often I plan to update. I think I'll be able to update daily until I reach the part of the story that still has to be written; after that I don't know. I'm working on it every day, though, so hopefully any gaps in posting won't be too long.**

**Thanks again, everyone! – kts**


	4. Chapter 4

Knowing that I wasn't alone in the forest was unsettling, to say the least. For the rest of the day I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, although I never once saw or heard anything other an occasional gust of wind through the trees or a random birdcall. If the man was following me, though, he was in for a surprise if he tried his smell-attack again. I clutched my knife firmly in my hand and kept moving, hiking until it was almost dark.

I found a spot with another small clearing, and gathered up some sticks. I tied one of the tarps up to them, making a funnel of sorts that would drain into my five empty bottles. I didn't know if it would work, but even if I only caught an inch or two, that would be better than nothing.

I took the other tarp back under tree cover, and spread it on the ground. I'd have to sleep without a covering tarp tonight, and as I pulled on Charlie's jumpsuit I hoped it wouldn't rain too hard. The tree I was under was all I had to keep me dry.

I opened another package of freeze-dried fruit, and while I chewed I gave some thought to trying to build a fire. The warmth would be nice, but I was still rattled by my encounter with the crazy man. If he was anywhere nearby, the smoke from the fire would be a dead giveaway of my location. Plus it'd been raining off and on all afternoon, and I was too exhausted to look for dry wood. In fact, man or no man, all I wanted to do right now was sleep. I curled up on my side and got as comfortable as I could, my knife securely in hand, my backpack serving as a pillow.

Despite my fatigue, I slept restlessly. The night seemed endless, and it felt like I was only sleeping for minutes at a stretch. Every time the drizzle increased to rain, I'd awaken and wonder if I was going to get wet. Every time the rain slacked off, I'd worry that I wouldn't collect any more water. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I must have succumbed. I didn't wake again until the rain had picked up to the point of being torrential.

I was still on my side, and I opened my eyes before moving. It was already light, so I knew I'd gotten at least some sleep. The rain was coming down in buckets, but something wasn't right. I could hear it falling on my tarp and I wasn't getting wet. I rolled onto my back and my eyes widened. My second tarp was neatly staked above me, keeping me dry. What the hell? I sat up, getting my bearings. I was still under the tree, but someone had moved my tarp down here and set up it over me. Crazy Man. Shit.

I fumbled for my knife and scrambled out into the rain. "Where are you?" I yelled, but my voice didn't carry far and I didn't get a response. I spun in a circle, but if he was nearby he was keeping out of sight. I was alone. But not really alone, I thought, as I crawled back under the tarp. At the foot of my makeshift tent sat my water bottles, all full and tightly capped. I stared at them in confusion. Who was this guy? What kind of person knocks down strangers to smell their hair, then stays hidden but does helpful things like this?

I sat down and tried to collect my thoughts as I stabbed at a can of peaches. If Crazy Man was following me, there wasn't anything I could do about it except keep my knife with me at all times. I watched the rain fall as I slurped at the juice. Surely he wasn't out there in this rain, watching me right now, was he? Was he camping out here, too? He couldn't live out here – that was illegal. But he obviously didn't care about the law, his assault on me yesterday something that would have cost him years in prison if he'd done it in downtown Forks rather than out here.

I eyed the water bottles again, and the tarp above my head. He might be some kind of crazy criminal on the run from the law, but he could have raped me yesterday and didn't. He could have assaulted me last night, too, but hadn't. Instead, he'd made sure I had enough water and a dry bed. I thought of where I'd be right now if I hadn't run away – in Simon Barrow's house, already married to him, his property to do with as he wished. I definitely would have been raped, and probably beaten just for the fun of it. I sighed, mostly in relief. I'd much rather take my chances out here with Crazy Man than have remained in Forks for what I knew would have been a tortuous life. At least Crazy Man seemed to recognize that I was a person, not a thing.

I rubbed my arm where he'd held me down. In the morning light I could see that I was beginning to bruise, and I covered it with my hand, remembering his strength. I wondered what he was sustaining himself with, and checked my pack. No, he hadn't helped himself to any of my food last night. He wasn't a thief, at least. I shook my head as I started packing up. Maybe I'd never know. Maybe he was long gone.

Once the rain let up, the sky actually began to clear and the day's hike was dry and sunny. I kept my knife in one hand and my map in the other. I'd found the trail just before midday, and although it was overgrown and untended, it was still much easier to walk on than through the forest itself, and knowing where I was on the map was vastly reassuring. I still had the feeling I was being watched, but I tried to ignore it. I'd go crazy myself if I let my nerves get the best of me.

I stopped hiking late in the evening. I wanted some daylight to look for wood, and was rewarded quickly. After I'd stacked enough branches to get me through the night, I went back into the woods and got lucky again. Not only did I find another stand of salmonberries, but there were some young ferns whose fiddleheads still looked edible. I gathered as many as I could find, and was heading back to camp when some golden mushrooms caught my eye. They looked like chanterelles, and as they were growing out of the ground rather than on decaying wood, I was pretty sure they were safe to eat. I brought a handful back with me, pretty proud of my foraging skills and looking forward to making my own dinner for once rather than sucking on a can.

But Charlie let me down again. I knew I shouldn't blame him, but why for the love of god weren't there any matches in his cooking gear? Why, Charlie? I searched again, but just as with the can opener, it was futile. I sighed and looked at my perfectly set campfire and my ingredients ready to go. Damn it. I knew there were ways to make sparks with bits of rock and sometimes even wood, but I had no idea how to do that. I rested my forehead on my knees in helpless frustration, then got an idea. It was worth a shot.

"Hey, Crazy Man! Do you have any matches?" I yelled it loudly as I could, my face pointed at the sky. No answer, but I wasn't really expecting one.

I made do with the last can of stew. After this I was down to canned fruits and vegetables. I was going to need more protein, and checked the map again as I ate. If I could get to one of the forks of the Quinault River tomorrow, maybe I could catch a fish. I wouldn't be able to cook it, but sushi was just raw fish, right? It might not be the tastiest thing in the world, but it wouldn't kill me.

I slept much better that night, my brain finally tuning out the forest noises. I hadn't bothered setting up my rain-water collection rig and woke to the sight of my tarp above me, just like I'd set it up the night before. I smiled, remembering how freaked out I'd been to see it yesterday. Already my run-in with Crazy Man seemed like a lifetime ago. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing, I thought, but then I checked my arm again. Yep, still bruised.

I sat up and reached for a water bottle. Something just inside the tarp's canopy caught my eye and I knelt forward. A pile of salmonberries and a small box. A small box. Could it be? Yes, it could. I turned it over carefully in my hands, sliding it open with a smile. Matches.

"Thank you!" I yelled, still smiling. I was starting to like Crazy Man, I had to admit it. But if he'd heard me, why hadn't he brought me matches last night when I needed them? Why was he still following me, still helping me, but staying away until I was asleep? Maybe tonight I'd try to stay awake so I could catch him in the act and finally get some answers.

I got to the south fork of the Quinalt River late in the afternoon. I'd hoped to make better time, but most of today's hike had been uphill and that slowed me down. The river itself was bigger than I expected, its rushing water drowning out all other noises. If I was going to have any luck catching a fish, I'd have to find a pool where the water wasn't moving this fast. Another mile downstream, I came to the perfect spot. There was a level sandy area where I could set up camp, and a fallen tree in the river had created a miniature dam. I dropped my pack and walked to the water's edge. I spotted some minnows swimming near the tree and got my hopes up that where there were minnows, there'd be bigger fish.

Once camp was set up, I scrounged for dry wood. It was actually easier here by the river, as old logs had washed out over the years and dried in the sun. I kicked off my shoes and socks, rolled up my jeans, and pulled my precious box of matches out of my pocket. If I accidentally got them wet, I'd never forgive myself.

The water was ice cold. Colder than ice, if possible, and the river bed was covered with smooth, slippery rocks. One wrong step, and I'd end up soaked. Thank god I could light a fire after this. I'd need it just to get some life back in my feet, whether I caught a fish or not.

I stood still, my eyes on the water, watching for any movement. The minnows seemed to like swimming around the tree, so I kept my gaze there. Ah! What was that? Something had moved underneath the trunk, something bigger than a minnow. I took a step closer, then another. There it was again. Not a huge fish, but a fish nonetheless. Another step. By now I was in up to my knees, the rolled hems of my jeans getting wet, my feet numb from the cold water. The fish moved again, slowly coming out from under the tree and circling the minnows. I was only about seven feet away from it. If I could just get a little closer, and it continued moving slowly, I might be able to catch it.

I took another step, concentrating on my footing. When I looked back toward the fish, it had disappered under the tree, so I took a second step and then held still, hoping it would reemerge. I was beginning to shiver. "Come on, fish," I whispered. "Get back out here before I get hypothermia." As if it had heard me, it reappeared and made the same slow circles. One more step and it was mine.

The next thing I knew I was underwater. I'd slipped on a rock and gone under. But I was moving. That couldn't be right. Something was pulling me. There was a current that ran underneath the tree and out into the river itself. Oh no, this wasn't good. I tried desperately to reach the surface of the water, but the pool was deeper than it had looked this close to the tree and the current was too strong. I made one more herculean effort, putting everything I had into fighting the pull of the water. It worked – I was free of the undercurrent – but I came up for air just as the tree appeared above me. It hit the back of my head, hard, and everything went black.

When I came to, it took me a moment to remember where I was. There were trees above me, and I could hear rushing water. Oh right, I'd run away to the woods, and had fallen in the river trying to catch a fish. But how did I get out of the water? I sat up and looked down at myself. I seemed to be all right, although I was only in my underwear. Weird. I looked up and immediately noticed a campfire burning about five feet away, it's delicious warmth the best thing I'd ever felt. Beyond the fire I could make out the shape of a person. He was down by the water, bent over. He stood and turned, walking in my direction, carrying my knife and what looked like a dead fish.

"Crazy Man." It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. He'd saved my life, and didn't deserve to be called crazy, even if he was.

He didn't look crazy, though. He looked angry.

"Stupid Girl."

**A/N: Thank you again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. I guess 's email wasn't working last night, because I didn't get sent anything until this morning - when they all arrived in a fifteen minute period and almost gave me a heart attack. I don't know if other writers have this problem - I want my stories to be well-liked, obviously, but this one's not done yet, and the pressure I felt this morning to make it good was overwhelming. Then I figured out what had happened, and reminded myself that this is supposed to be fun. So, let the fun continue!**


	5. Chapter 5

Crazy Man stopped on the other side of the fire and bent down again. He cut the fish into sections and put them in one of Charlie's small cooking pans, poured in some water, and balanced the pot on top of one of the logs in the fire. I frowned, confused. The logs were going to settle as they burned, and the pot would tip over, its contents lost to the flames. How did he not know that?

I started to get up to fix the pot more securely, but as soon as I moved my vision blurred, and I shifted back down.

"What are you doing out here? Other than trying to very slowly kill yourself?"

He was angry. I could hear it in his voice. But why was he angry with me? I hadn't done anything to him. He was the one who'd knocked me down, the one who'd been following me. I didn't owe him an explanation, and definitely not an apology. His attitude was actually pissing me off a little.

"What are you doing out here?" Even to my own ears I sounded like a petulant child, and wasn't surprised when he dismissed my question with a shake of his head. I looked at him more closely. He was younger than I would have guessed, given his strength. And he was gorgeous, the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. I sank further back down, a little overwhelmed. Crazy Man was crazy beautiful. Maybe I'd drowned in the river, I thought, staring at him. Maybe this was heaven and he was an angel who'd appeared to cook for me. Who knew dead people still ate?

"You probably have a concussion," the angel said. "You need to lie still, but you can't fall asleep."

"I can't?"

"No. Keep talking."

"The pot's going to fall."

"What pot?"

"The one on the fire. You can't put it up on the log like that. It has to be down in the coals."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, but reached into the fire with his bare hands and moved the pot like I'd told him to. Yes, I was definitely either dead or dreaming. Either way I didn't really care, looking back up to his face. How was he so handsome?

"How are you so handsome?" I sighed.

"The same way you smell so good, I guess." His irritated tone gave way to one of amusement, and half of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"I know I have a concussion."

"How's that?"

"Because you look like an angel, but there aren't any."

"No, there aren't."

"What are you, then?"

He didn't answer at first, just fiddled with the pot. "What do you mean, what am I?"

"You're not a person. A regular one, I mean. You're too strong."

He shrugged. "I only seem strong relative to you."

"You've been following me all day and staying up at night after I fall asleep." I closed my eyes, suddenly aware of how much the back of my head hurt.

"I don't need much rest."

"You don't know how to cook."

"I don't know how to cook." I heard him snort. "You caught me."

"How can a regular person live out here without knowing how to cook?"

"I eat things that don't need to be cooked."

"Raw foods?" I rubbed my forehead, the pain in the back of my head moving forward.

"As raw as possible."

"Like what?"

He didn't answer me and I opened my eyes. He was staring at me, or rather, at my arm.

"Did I do that?"

I looked down at the bruise and realized we'd been talking while I was still just in my underwear.

"You did," I answered, reaching over for my pack and pulling out my jumpsuit. My vision seemed to have stabilized and I sat up enough to get my legs into the pants.

"I didn't mean to."

I scooched up my hips and brought the rest of the jumpsuit up to my torso, fitting in my arms and zipping it up. I stayed seated, looking at him.

"Part of you did."

He turned back to the pot, giving it a shake, not answering me.

"Don't let the water evaporate or the fish will scorch."

He added some more water, then stood and moved back a couple of feet, staring at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Unbelievable. Alice was right."

"What? Who?"

"What are you thinking right now?"

"I'm wondering where my clothes are."

"They're over there." He gestured to a pile of cloth down by the water.

"Oh."

"Now what are you thinking?"

"That I should hang them up to dry."

"I don't think they'll be of much use to you. I had to rip them off."

"You ripped them off?"

He nodded and took his eyes off me, checking the pot, and then glancing at my pack. "Do you want anything else to go with this? More berries?"

"Berries would be great, but you don't have to -" Before I was done with the sentence, he was gone. Okay, this was beyond weird. No one can move that fast. I may have gotten a concussion, but I wasn't so disoriented that I'd imagined his supernatural speed.

He was back in less than a minute, his hands full of salmonberries. He approached me hesitatingly, putting them down on the edge of my tarp and backing away, resuming his spot on the other side of the fire. Was he afraid of me?

"I'm not going to bite you."

This time I was rewarded with more than a half-smile. He actually laughed. "I know you're not." He checked the pot, still chuckling. "How do you know when it's done?"

"With fish, when the water boils." I was glad his mood had improved, but I didn't understand what was so funny.

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"What question?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"I'm running away."

"What are you running away from?"

"Forks."

"The town?"

I nodded.

"What did Forks do to you?"

"It wasn't the town. It was a man in the town."

"What did he do?"

Crazy Man's questions were getting a little too personal, and I didn't like the way he was asking, as if he had a right to know.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing out here, why I left Forks, or what the man in Forks did."

He narrowed his eyes at me, but I didn't care. I hadn't run away just so that I could polish my Deference skills in the forest.

"What's your name?"

"Bella."

"Bella what?"

I frowned. Girls went by just their first names. Didn't he know that? "Bella Swan."

"Swan," he said under his breath, bringing the pot to the edge of the tarp. "That's appropriate."

"Why?"

He glanced at my neck as he backed away, but didn't answer me.

"What's your name?"

"Edward Cullen."

"Do you live out here?"

He watched as I dug a spoon out of my pack and took a bite of the fish. "I used to."

The fish was actually pretty good, and the warmth of the broth was exactly what I needed. I took another bite, and then offered him the spoon. "Do you want some?"

He declined, a slight look of disgust on his face. Oh, well. More for me. I was about to ask him why he'd had to rip off my clothes when something in the woods behind me caught his attention. I watched as his expression changed again. His eyes were an unusual color, kind of a hazel with a touch of orange. In less than a second, his pupils dilated until his eyes were completely black, his jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. In less than another second, he was gone.

I put the spoon down slowly. It couldn't be. Those were old stories, made up to frighten children, to keep them from going into the woods. Charlie himself had told me that when I'd come home from school one day and repeated what must have been the tenth story I'd heard the other girls whispering during lunch. I'd believed Charlie. Why wouldn't I? He always told me the truth. But what I'd just seen with my own eyes – I shook my head a little – maybe the concussion was worse than I thought.

No, I knew what I'd seen. His speed, his lack of sleep, his strength, the way he'd just turned into a predator before my very eyes. Those old stories could have been describing Edward Cullen himself.

He reappeared a few minutes later, watching me as he circled to the other side of the fire. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, not taking his eyes off me. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"

I nodded.

"Of course you have. I still don't get what you think you're doing out here, but you're not stupid."

I shook my head. "And you're not crazy. You're a vampire."

**A/N: One thing I never understood in New Moon was why Edward took Bella into the woods to break up with her. I get that she's the one who ran further into them, but it always struck me as out of character for him to leave her there alone, unprotected. When I started thinking about writing Edward as a vampire, I thought it made more sense that they'd meet in the woods, not the other way around.**

**Anyway, I'm rambling a bit … must be the heat (we might hit eighty degrees in Seattle today!) - sorry, rest of the country. Hope you're all keeping cool, wherever you are.**

**- kts**


	6. Chapter 6

He didn't deny it. I was hoping that he would – that he'd laugh at me and call me Stupid Girl again for coming up with such a preposterous idea – but instead he just held my gaze, his expression hard to read. He was staring at me like he expected something further from me, but I had no idea what it could be. He gave up after another minute, and shook his head.

"I don't understand why I can't hear you."

"I wasn't talking." Maybe he was the stupid one.

"No, your mind. I can't hear your thoughts."

"You hear people's thoughts?"

He nodded. "You're the first person I've ever met whose mind is silent. That's why I thought you were stupid."

My eyes widened. "Just because you couldn't read my mind, you thought I was some kind of idiot?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know what to think."

"That's awfully judgmental. It's a good thing you can't hear my thoughts right now."

"Not being able to read your thoughts almost got you killed."

"When you attacked me, you mean?"

"I caught your scent but didn't get any mental activity, so I thought you were an animal."

"Once you knew I wasn't, why didn't you get off of me?"

He looked down at the fire, stirring at it with a stick. "I had to get my control back. You smelled better than anything I'd ever smelled before in my life."

"How is that possible when I'd been hiking for two days?"

The half-smile returned. "I don't mind a little sweat. It was your blood that smelled so good. It still does." He lifted his eyes from the fire to my face. "It's still the best thing I've ever smelled."

"My blood."

"Yes."

"Can you smell it right now?"

He nodded slowly without answering.

I watched him for a minute in silence.

"I wish I could hear your thoughts. Are you afraid of me?"

"No." I wasn't afraid of him. Not at all.

He looked at me intently. "I'm the most dangerous thing in the forest, and you're not afraid?"

"You've had every opportunity to attack me again. If you were going to, you would have by now."

He made a fist with his free hand and then flexed his fingers. "It's taken all of my control at times not to."

"Why didn't you?"

He turned toward the water, rubbing the back of his neck. "I normally only eat animals, but there aren't any here. No big ones, at least. These woods used to be full of deer and elk, bears, sometimes even cougars. Now, there's nothing but squirrels and chipmunks. And mice, for god's sake." He turned toward me again, his face showing another trace of amusement. "Do you have any idea how many mice I've eaten in the last month?"

"I don't think I want to know."

"No, I suppose not." His smile grew larger as he poked at the fire. "I feel like a lion that's been reduced to cat food."

I smiled, too. "That must suck."

"It does." He squatted down and added another log. "I've stayed here too long, gotten too hungry. When I caught your scent," he looked up at me over the flames, "I almost gave in to temptation."

"How old are you?" He didn't look that much older than me, but if he'd been coming to these woods long enough to notice such a change in the animal life, he must be older than he looked.

"Technically I'm eighteen."

"Technically?"

"That's when I was changed, when I stopped aging."

"How long ago was that?"

"A hundred and fifty years ago."

Okay, that did it. There was only so much I could process. My head felt better and I got to my feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Where does it look like?"

I made it to the river's edge and knelt down, scooping up some icy water with my hands and dipping my face in it. Edward Cullen thought he was a hundred and sixty-eight years old. He was crazy, after all. I was out here with a crazy man, just as I'd thought. I scooped up more water and buried my face again. No, that didn't explain his speed, his strength. I glanced over my shoulder. He'd stood and was watching me. There was one way to find whether he was telling me the truth, I realized, and I moved back toward the campfire, drying my face with my cuff.

I stood next to him and watched him stiffen. "This bothers you? Me being this close?"

"You smell so good." He closed his eyes.

"My blood smells so good."

"You have no idea."

"So if I did this -" I bent down and picked up my knife where he'd left it after cleaning the fish, holding to my other palm. "If I did this, what would happen?"

He opened his eyes and they instantly flared wider, but it was too late to stop me.

"Let's find out, shall we?" I'd swept the blade over my hand, opening up a thin red line of blood, and held it up to his face.

I was on my back this time, his attack having come from the front. He was on top of me, his face buried in my neck, his right arm holding my left out as far as it could stretch. "Stupid girl," he snarled into my ear. "Do you really want to die?"

"No." No, I didn't want to die. That was the whole reason I'd run away, so that I could live. "No!" I repeated, more emphatically, my voice desperate. I believed him now.

"Close your hand." His voice was tight, his grip on my arm tighter. His left hand was cradling my head – he'd made sure I didn't hit it again as I fell – and I felt his fingers pull on my hair as they clenched. He was breathing in gulps again, his mouth right above my jugular.

I should have been frightened, I knew that. But instead, I was feeling something else. All of his weight was on me, and I couldn't move even if I wanted to – but that was the thing. I didn't want to. When he'd attacked me the first time, from behind, I hadn't noticed how good he smelled. Now, with my face next to his, I could and did. He smelled kind of sweet, kind of earthy. I turned my face closer and inhaled again. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. I felt my muscles relax, even the hand I knew I should keep closed. Is this what he meant about my blood smelling good? Did I have this effect on him?

He lifted his head and looked down at me. His eyes were black again, his jaw clenched, his expression a combination of rage and hunger. No, the effect he had on me was different. Even though he was angry, I couldn't get over how beautiful he was. I looked over his entire face, ending at his mouth. I wanted to kiss him.

I brought my free hand up and lightly touched his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and I felt his breathing begin to still, like it had before. He didn't pull away from my touch, so I ran my fingers down the line of his jaw. His skin was cool and smooth. It felt hard, too, like marble, as if he were a statue come to life.

He opened his eyes and they were almost back to their normal color, his expression softening and changing to something like disbelief. I felt his fingers move in my hair again, this time gently, as he lowered my head to the ground. He pushed himself up, and in a blur of movement I watched him go down to the river and return with a scrap of fabric from the shirt I'd been wearing when I'd fallen in. He wrapped it around the cut on my palm, tied the ends together, and then sat back, taking what seemed to be his first breath since he'd let me go.

"That was the stupidest thing you've done yet." His head was down, and he glared at me from underneath his eyebrows. "You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive right now."

I glanced at my neatly-wrapped hand and knew he was right. "You're right." I pulled myself up and ran my thumb over the improvised bandage. It was tight enough to stop the cut from bleeding, but not so tight that it hurt. I was about to compliment him on his doctoring skills, but he looked so drawn, almost haggard, and I realized what a struggle I'd just put him through. "I'm sorry."

His shoulders relaxed a little and he rested his head in his hands. "Just don't ever do anything like that again."

"I won't." Wait. What was he talking about, ever? "You're not staying with me, are you?"

He looked up at me without answering, one of his eyebrows arched. Oh, no.

"Oh, no. No. I didn't run away so that some other man could boss me around. I appreciate you pulling me out of the river, and thank you for the matches, but I'll be just fine on my own."

"You will not. You've made that abundantly clear."

"I will, too!" God, he could sound patronizing. "I was doing just fine until I slipped on that rock."

"Your water bottles hadn't collected a drop of rain. You didn't have any matches. You don't know how to catch a fish." His half-smile reappeared. "You've been sucking on cans."

"Well," I defended myself, "at least I'm not reduced to cat food!"

His shoulders started to shake, and his mouth turned up into a real smile. I caught my breath as he tilted his head back and laughed out loud. How could he be so handsome, I wondered again. Would it really be so awful if he stayed with me? His moods were volatile, and his personality still questionable, but damn, a minute ago when I'd been laying underneath him? Maybe I should let him stay just on the chance that would happen again.

"And now you're injured," he gestured to my hand, his face growing serious. "Self-inflicted, I might add." He shook his head at me. "There's no way I can leave you out here on your own. You'll be dead within a week."

"Look, Edward," I pulled myself up straighter. "I appreciate your concern. I do. It's very courteous, very considerate. If you wanted to prove to me that you're a gentleman, you can rest assured that you have. But I'm not your responsibility."

He tipped his head a fraction of an inch, his eyes narrowing. "Yes. You are." He said it with an undertone of such seriousness that he seemed to implying something more.

"What do you mean?"

"You're my mate."

**A/N: Wow, thank you all so much to everyone who's reading and recommending this story to others! I really appreciate it. It was fun to read the reviews for the last chapter and find out where so many of you live. Zagreb, even! The internet is truly a wonderful thing.**

**I really hope the heat breaks for you all soon – kts**


	7. Chapter 7

Edward Cullen was the most insufferable being I'd ever met. We argued the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening over his ridiculous notion that we were somehow destined to be together. Nothing I said had any impact on his decision, and the madder I got, the more it seemed to amuse him.

I told him I didn't want a mate. He said I might eventually, and that he could wait.

I told him I didn't like him. He answered that he wasn't sure he liked me, either.

I told him I had no intention of marrying anyone, ever. He said that marriage was an outdated social custom, and it was fine with him if I didn't want to get married.

I even told him I was a lesbian. He reminded me of how I'd mentioned his handsomeness, a rather pleased look on his face while he did so.

Finally I told him the real reason I was running away, about Simon Barrow and his plans to make me his fourth wife. For once, he didn't have a ready answer.

"That's what it's come to?"

"What?"

"Society?" He looked into the fire. "I left Forks forty years ago, and I haven't lived among people since then. I had no idea."

"Forty years ago? It must have been so different."

"It probably was, but already it wasn't going in a good direction. The Registrations forced my family to leave town."

"You have a family?"

"I did. We were really a group of unrelated vampires, but we called ourselves a family, and we felt like one. Carlisle and Esme were our parents. I had two brothers and two sisters."

"Where are they now?"

"Carlisle and Esme are in Alaska. Rose and Emmett are in Maine. Jasper and Alice are in Texas. I was just visiting them, and decided to stop back here on my up to Alaska."

"Why did the Registrations force you to leave?"

"Once the government started keeping track of everyone, it would have been impossible for us to remain hidden among the population. We used to move a lot to hide the fact that we never aged, but we couldn't do that if we were forced to stay in one place."

"And the drafts – I suppose you had to avoid those."

"Actually, everyone but me was already safe. Emmet and Rose married each other, and so did Jasper and Alice. Carlisle and Esme were already married, so I was the only one who would have had to enlist."

"But you couldn't have, could you?"

"No, there was no way." He looked up at me. "Can you imagine how many meals I'd have had to feign my way though in the army, while trying to sneak out at night to find some real food?"

I nodded in agreement. Avoiding the draft was considered the most unpatriotic thing a person could do, but I'd have avoided it, too, if I could have.

"So you're registered?" he asked.

I nodded again. "Everyone registers when they turn sixteen."

"Sixteen." He sounded surprised. "It was eighteen when we left. What happens after you register?"

"Well, the boys get another year to finish school, but we don't."

"No?"

"No. The girls' draft is different. If your parents haven't arranged a marriage for you by the age of eighteen, you go into a pool that matches your DNA to someone else, and the government sends you a letter telling you who you're going to marry."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish I were."

"But you said this Simon Barrow picked you."

"I hadn't entered the pool yet, and because my father was forced out of his house and job, I ended up in a group home for girls. Since all the single young men go off into the military, the older men can pick from the seventeen year old girls who aren't spoken for yet."

"So men have multiple wives now?"

"They have to. Because of the wars there are too many women, and not enough men. And the government wants babies – lots of babies. It's horrible, Edward."

"It sounds horrible. No wonder you ran away."

I looked up at him, wondering if he meant it. He seemed to, his face showing nothing but chagrin and disbelief. "So do you finally understand why this 'you're my mate' business is so infuriating?"

"You are, though."

I groaned in frustration. He was never going to get it, but he'd had the decency to accept my explanation of why I'd run away. I could at least hear him out, too. "Why, Edward? Why am I your mate? Tell me."

He poked at the fire and added another log. "Alice had a vision."

"Oh, well, in that case. You should said so at the beginning."

He chuckled. "The way I can hear thoughts, she sees things that are going to happen."

"Of course she does."

He didn't seem to mind my tone. "The night before I left her in Texas, she had one. She couldn't see your face, but she told me I was about to meet my mate. She said I wouldn't be able to hear your thoughts and that you wouldn't be afraid of me."

"Come on," I tried to reason with him. "That's hardly specific enough."

"She said you were alone and in danger."

"In danger from a crazy man."

"She said if I didn't find you in time, you were going to drown."

"No way."

"Yes. She described the river perfectly." He cast his eyes forward. "She didn't tell me one thing, though, although I should have figured it out myself."

"What's that?"

"That you're a human, a human with the most beguiling scent I've ever smelled." He glanced at me.

"Why should you have figured that out yourself?"

"It'd be nearly impossible for a vampire to drown."

"It would?"

"We can stop breathing if we have to, and no little undercurrent would be a threat to our strength." He poked at the fire. "Your being human complicates things. That's probably why she didn't tell me." He seemed angry again. Maybe he'd been angry with Alice this whole time instead of me.

"How?"

"Vampires only mate with each other."

"See? She was wrong."

"No, she wasn't wrong. I knew it when you touched my face."

"When I touched your face?"

"As soon as you touched me, I knew for sure. Didn't you feel anything?"

I swallowed. I had felt something, but I didn't want to admit it. Instead, I ducked the question. "People feel things all the time."

"I don't."

"You don't?"

He shook his head slowly. "I never have. Before you touched me, that is." His eyes narrowed and he frowned. "I just don't understand what we're going to do about you being human."

I rolled my eyes and stood up. "We aren't going to do anything about it."

"Now where are you going?"

"Off to do something human!" I yelled over my shoulder as I reached the treeline. "And don't follow me!"

I had to slip out of the jumpsuit in order to pee, and I wondered again about my clothes. I'd only brought the jeans and shirt I'd been wearing, and if they were ripped beyond use, I was stuck in this jumpsuit for the rest of the hike. While it was great at night, it was going to be too hot to wear during the day.

I sighed as I finished, wiping myself with a leaf. What was I going to do about Edward Cullen? I could deal with him being a vampire, but this mate nonsense was just too much. I zipped the jumpsuit back up slowly and took my time returning to camp. I wouldn't be able to lose him, and wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to. I had felt something when I'd touched his face, something I hadn't felt before. I'd never wanted to kiss anyone, never wanted to know what another person's lips felt like on mine. I knew what sex was, and Charlie had always been honest with me whenever I had a question about how it worked, but mating with a vampire? The school had taught us girls that sex was for two purposes – procreation and pleasure for the men. Charlie had scoffed at that and told me it was for the pleasure of both, procreation just a happy side-effect. "If you're lucky," he'd added, tousling my hair. I wondered what the word meant to Edward. What was a mate to him? I decided to find out.

He was waiting for me at the edge of the trees, his expression worried.

"I had to go to the bathroom."

He nodded and pulled some branches out of my way as I entered the clearing. I crossed my arms and looked up at him. "What do you mean when you say I'm your mate? What does that word even mean to you?"

He moved closer to me, bringing a hand up to my hair, then cupping my cheek. "It means having someone. It means always having someone."

"But I'm not immortal."

"No, you're not."

"And you want to eat me."

"Complications, like I said." He leaned closer. "But I also want to do this." His lips were cool, soft and light as they met mine. I could smell him again and had the same reaction, my muscles relaxing, so much so that I had to lean against him just to stay upright. He pulled me nearer and I kissed him harder, reveling in how wonderful it felt to be this close to him.

After a moment he straightened, but I kept my hold on him, telling myself it was for balance. There was something else I'd wanted to ask him, but it took me a second to clear my head and remember. Oh, right. "Why did you have matches when you don't cook your food?"

"I ran to Port Angeles and got you some," he answered, smiling down at me.

He was even more handsome this close, and already I found myself wishing he'd kiss me again.

"Okay."

**A/N: Okay? :)**


	8. Chapter 8

As the word slipped out of my mouth, I told myself I wasn't agreeing to be his mate, but instead just allowing him to stay with me. Part of me suspected it was a lie I was telling myself, embarrassed at how close I'd come to changing my mind after just one kiss, but part of me was still apprehensive. I hadn't been lying when I'd told him I didn't want to be anyone's mate. Sex was for making babies, which meant years of drudgery, and in my mother's case, death. I'd grown up haunted by a fear that the same thing would happen to me, and choosing a partner who was a million times stronger than me, and wanted to eat me, wouldn't exactly improve my chances.

"Okay," I repeated. "You can stay." I couldn't commit to more than that.

He wrapped his arms around me and held me to him, not too tightly. "Thank you," he whispered into my hair, his tone amused again, like he already knew he could.

I let it go, though. Something about him told me I've have to learn to pick my battles and every amused tone of voice wasn't worth hassling over.

"Now, let's get you packed up."

"What?"

"You can't stay out here. It isn't safe."

How quickly he'd proven me right. I would have to pick my battles, and this was definitely one of them. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"Obviously you are. I can get you there faster. When you ran away from Forks, where were you going? That's all I want to know."

"Oh." I felt myself relax again. "I didn't really have a plan. I was hoping to get to Seattle, I guess."

"And what were you going to do when you got there?"

"I don't know." I hadn't thought that far ahead, but now I realized how difficult it would be for me in the city. I wouldn't be able to identify myself to anyone without them being able to check my status, and they'd find out immediately that I was a runaway. "Hide, I guess."

He was silent for a minute. "Have you been there before?"

"No, never."

He released me and moved back toward the fire. It was obvious that he didn't like the idea, but what else was I supposed to do?

"What's wrong with Seattle?"

"Two things. First, there's nothing there for me to eat except pigeons and rats."

"Gross."

"Exactly. I don't like eating people's pets, so cats and dogs are out of the question, and the zoo – all the animals there are endangered now. It wouldn't be right."

"No, I guess not." I joined him at the fire and sat down across from him.

"You can sit next to me."

"I thought it bothered you."

"It did at first, but I'm already much more comfortable with your scent. In fact, I miss it. Come here." He patted the space next to him.

"Bossy," I said under my breath, but I got up and moved next to him.

He chuckled. "Sorry. I'll try not to be."

I'd missed his scent, too. "What's the second reason?"

"It's been about twenty-five years since I've been there, but it was like a police state with cameras on every corner. I was even stopped once and asked for my ID."

"You were?"

He nodded. "I don't think either us could hide there very well."

"I had no idea. I thought that was just Forks."

"No, it's everywhere. Every city, every town. There's almost nowhere left for people like me. Vampires, I mean." He stared into the fire. "For years we lived on the fringes, then gave up and moved away from people altogether. But there just aren't that many animals left any more."

"There aren't?"

He shook his head. "The country's changed so much in the last few decades. Once all the parks were sold to developers and miners, the animals began to disappear. Alaska's still pretty good, though. Lots of moose."

"What about your brothers and sisters? How are they surviving in Maine and Texas?"

"Rose and Emmett are close to the Canadian border, and they do most of their hunting up there. Alice couldn't bear to leave civilization." He glanced at me. "You don't have a shoe fetish, do you?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"Good," he chuckled, continuing. "She and Jasper live near a giant beef farm. They help themselves to the occasional steer."

"Are there a lot of vampires?" I was beginning to feel sorry for them. As much as I'd hated certain aspects of my upbringing, I'd never had to worry about my next meal.

"More than you'd think. A lot of us have left the country, though, and moved to places that don't require ID to walk down the street."

"And most of you only eat animals?"

"No, the opposite. My family and I are in the minority. Most vampires prefer human blood."

"So those old stories were true."

He looked at me again. "Probably. We're not put off by garlic or crucifixes, and we don't turn into bats or sleep in coffins, but we do exist."

"And you drink blood."

"Everybody has to drink something."

I laughed a little, but his face grew more serious. "That's another reason you can't stay out here. The vampires who prefer human blood, they're getting more desperate, too. It's harder for them to hunt in cities."

"But that's where all the people are."

"Not all. One advantage – for them – in opening up the parks to development is that there are more people out here working."

"Charlie." My heart sank.

"Who?"

"My dad. He works at the sawmill now."

"Outdoors or in?"

"In. He's too old to go out and harvest the trees. His job is to run them through the machines at the mill."

"He should be okay, then."

We were silent for a minute. "So I can't stay out here, and I can't go to Seattle." I looked up at him to see if I was understanding him correctly. "And neither can you, because there's nothing for you eat in either place."

He didn't answer, but nodded in agreement, his frown deepening.

"Well, I'm not going back to Forks."

His expression changed. "Is there still that big dairy farm just south of Forks?"

"Norris' place? Yeah, that's still there."

He rose and in another blur of motion, brought enough potfuls of water from the river to extinguish the fire. "Then I'm sorry to tell you this, Swan, but we are indeed going back to Forks."

"Are you hard of hearing? And not just of my thoughts? I believe I said very clearly, in English, that I'm not going back."

"I don't mean Forks itself." He was rolling up my tarps. "Esme's cabin, if it's still there, will be perfect."

"Esme's cabin?"

"I know people are living in our old house, or I'd take you there. But surely no one's found the cabin. It's far too secluded." He was tossing things in my pack. "I'd have brought you a can opener, too, but the gas station didn't have any. I'll have to get you some better food, anyway."

I was having trouble keeping up with his thought patterns; he seemed to think as quickly as he ran.

"Edward, stop." I pulled on his arm and he turned to me just as he was zipping up the last of my things. "This is happening too fast. I just met you, and now you want to take me to a cabin somewhere secluded. I don't know if I want to go."

He stood and looked down at me, his expression one of disappointment. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"How do you know that? How can I know that?"

"Touch me again."

"Where?"

"Anywhere." He held out his arm and pushed up his sleeve. I put my hand on his forearm and he slipped his around my elbow. "I don't want to eat you any more. In just the few hours we've been talking, something's changed. Now all I want to do is protect you, to make sure that no one ever hurts you, including me."

"I don't need a protector." Something had changed for me, as well. I realized that while we'd been talking I'd gone from not understanding a thing about his behavior to actually being able to pick up on his moods, as if I could read his emotions. Right now he was feeling concern, dismay, and something else I wasn't sure about. I looked down at our arms, and felt something else. It was like a flow of energy, not electric – not sparks, but a flow just the same.

"If you don't like the cabin, we don't have to stay there. But will you come look at it first before you decide?"

"If I don't like it, I don't have to stay." I wanted to make sure we were agreed on the terms.

"I promise," he smiled, his third emotion suddenly becoming more clear. Affection, that was it. He did like me. He liked me a lot. I couldn't help but smile back at him and I nodded my agreement.

**A/N: I almost ended that chapter with another 'okay' - how redundant of me ;). **

**A couple of reviewers wondered if this story really qualifies as Humor, and I guess I'm not sure if it does, to be honest. I'd just finished a chapter that I thought was funny when I decided to start posting, so that's why I made that selection. The beginning of the story is definitely not amusing, though. Today I figured out how it's going to end, and when I get there I'll decide if it needs to be reclassified or not. Feel free to let me know your opinions!**

** has changed its alert system - when someone 'follows' the story I get an email saying 'you are being followed.' Paranoid writers, be warned.**

**Okay, then, off to Esme's cabin ...**

**- kts**


	9. Chapter 9

I loved the cabin. It had clearly been designed by a woman, and a smart one at that. Although it was small, it was laid out in a way that immediately made perfect sense. There was a work area on the left, with a long rough-hewn desk running almost the full length of the room. On the right was a seating area staged around a fireplace. Toward the back were stairs that led up to a sleeping loft, curtained for privacy. Under the loft was a huge claw-footed bathtub. Windows circled the entire room, and although it was almost dark when we arrived, I was already excited to see how much natural light the cabin got during the day.

"This is amazing," I murmured as Edward let me down inside the door. I'd ridden piggyback as he raced through the woods, the trip here taking maybe ten minutes compared to the three days it had taken me to hike out. While we'd traveled I'd had to keep my head down, the speed with which Edward moved more than my eyes could take in without getting dizzy. He'd been feeling hopeful, and my words made him smile.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." Not just well-designed, the cabin was also beautifully decorated with colors that once must have been vivid, their fading just adding a certain elegance. None of the touches were overly feminine, nothing flowery or pink. It felt like a woman's cabin, not a girl's. A serious, smart woman's cabin. I smiled to myself, amazed to be feeling another flow of energy not unlike the one I got from Edward, but this time from another source.

"It's like it was built for me."

"Maybe it was."

"What do you mean?" I put my pack down and looked up at him.

"Esme insisted on putting in a kitchen. None of us understood why." He gestured to the back corner behind the bathtub.

I went to examine it. A sink was set into another long plank of wood, this one smooth enough to use as a cutting board. Above it was a pot rack with an assortment of cast-iron pans. A wood-burning stove was to the right of the sink, and to the left, something I didn't recognize. It was a squarish thing with a heavy door. I pulled it open. Nothing.

"What's this?"

"An ice box."

"An ice box?"

"To keep things cold."

"So there's no electricity."

"No, but there is running water. At least there was. We helped Esme dig the well." He turned one of the taps but nothing came out. "Maybe it needs to be pumped. I'll fix it, don't worry."

"I'm not worried." I turned back to the room. "It's perfect."

"Good. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"To get you some wood."

A minute later he was back with enough logs to start fires in both the fireplace and the stove. He told me to sit down and rest in front of the fireplace, while he opened a can of beans with his hands, lifting off the lid with the ease it took me to open an envelope.

"I guess I won't be needing a can opener."

He chuckled and emptied the contents into a pot, putting it on the stove. "Just let me know if I'm doing this wrong."

"Will do."

"I'll get you more food tomorrow." He sat down across from me. "Let me see your hand."

I held it out to him and he rested it on his leg while he gingerly fingered the bandage.

"Why were you staying away from me during the day?"

"I had to get accustomed to your scent. I didn't trust myself to get near you unless you were asleep."

"Why?"

"When you're moving, it does two things. One, it stirs your blood and I can smell it better, and two, if you move suddenly, as if to get away, it brings out my predatory instincts." He started untying the fabric.

"So I should hold really still right now?"

He dropped the bandage and ran his thumb lightly over the cut. "No, I don't feel that way any more." He smiled up at me, and I was reassured by both his normal eye color, and the feeling I was getting from him. He wanted to help me.

"I don't know if this will work, but it's worth a try." He lifted my hand to his face, inhaling deeply. Then, with a touch so light I barely felt it, he kissed my palm, holding it to his mouth while he looked at me from under his eyebrows. I felt his mouth move again and then something cool and soothing stroked over my cut. I gasped involuntarily at the sensation. It felt wonderful – beyond wonderful. Beyond anything pleasurable I'd ever felt before.

He licked me again and I let out a small moan.

"Does it hurt?"

I couldn't answer him, and just shook my head mutely. One side of his mouth turned up in a grin, and he returned to my palm. I closed my eyes, my senses overwhelmed.

He was feeling something different now. Something less helpful and more aggressive. He continued licking just as gently, but his fingers had tightened and he was taking more deep breaths. My breathing had quickened, too, and I dug the fingers of my right hand into the seat cushion beneath me, hoping to regain some control of my body.

A moment later he stopped, held my hand up to examine it, and then showed it to me. The cut had disappeared. My palm looked exactly as it had before I'd stupidly taken a knife to it, not even the faintest scar in evidence.

"How did you do that?" I whispered, still unsure of my voice.

He didn't answer at first, just closed his hand over mine, stroking the back of it with his thumb. He seemed pleased, but with an edge of frustration.

"Venom."

"Venom?"

"We don't have saliva, or blood, or any human fluids. We just have venom, and we can heal ourselves with it. I didn't know if it would work on a human, but apparently it does."

The way he'd said "human" made me guess that was what he was frustrated about. "I can't help being human, Edward."

"I know you can't. Obviously you can't." He stood and went to the check the beans. "It's just that I know you're my mate, and if you were a vampire, you'd know it, too."

"And everything would be settled, and we'd be up in the loft going at it right now?"

He nodded with a smile that was half-sheepish, half-wolfish, while he opened a cupboard and pulled out a bowl, then found a spoon in a drawer. "I think these are done." He brought the bowl over and then went to stand by the desk, looking out the window at the falling dark.

He'd left them on too long, and they were burned, but I didn't tell him. I felt too sorry for him. He thought he'd found his mate, but she was uncooperative. That must suck. I got the first bite down, my hunger overriding the taste, while I mused on Edward's predicament. "Maybe you'll find another mate," I finally offered.

He was still standing by the desk, fiddling with an oil lamp. "There's only one."

"How can that be possible?"

He shrugged. "It's just how it is."

"What happens if a vampire never finds his mate?"

"Then he – or she – is alone forever." He lit the lamp and I could see his face better.

He'd been alone for a hundred and sixty-eight years, and was facing an eternity on his own if he couldn't find a way to make me his. A wave of sympathy for him welled up inside me, but then something occurred to me.

"Wait just a god-damned second." I put my bowl down and looked at my healed hand. "Did you inject me with your venom?" I stood and advanced on him, holding out my hand. "That's how it's done, isn't it? How you change someone?"

"Yes, that's how it's done." My outburst seemed to amuse him, and he smiled. "But no, I didn't. Your cut was already closed, and even if it hadn't been, I'd have had to use a lot more venom than I did." He reached for my hand and traced over it with his fingers. "You're so warm."

"I feel warm to you?"

"So alive. I like it, actually. I'm not sure I want you to be a vampire." He shook his head and squeezed my hand lightly. "And I'd certainly never change you without your permission."

I nodded and swallowed. Maybe it was being inside together in a small space, or maybe it was the memory of how his tongue had felt on my palm, but I could smell him again although I wasn't nearly as close as the last few times. I took a step closer, the sensation of my tired muscles relaxing almost as delicious as his scent.

"No." He backed away. "Not like that."

"Not like what?"

"We also have a smell that sedates our prey. I won't seduce you with it."

"But you want me."

"I do, but not like that. It's cheating. You have to want me, too."

"I kind of think I do."

He looked at me as intently as when he'd asked if I was afraid of him. "You do?"

"I don't know." I hated sounding so indecisive, but I couldn't help it. It was true.

"It's okay, Swan." He stepped forward and kissed my cheek. "I've waited a long time, and I can wait a little longer. Let me know when you decide."

**A/N: Thanks for all your input on the last chapter; I'll keep it in mind as I get to the end ... I finished Ch. 17 this morning, and think I'm about two-thirds of the way done. Fingers crossed that I don't hit any writer's block.**

**When I started writing this, I kept thinking 'don't make this The Hunger Games or The Handmaiden's Tale,' although I totally understand why those books would occur to some of you. There will be some justice served out at the end, however, and even though I may reclassify the story as something other than humor, I definitely see a pattern emerging in my stories: I like smart Bellas, nice Edwards, and HEA's.**

**Thanks again, everyone! -kts**


	10. Chapter 10

Despite my fatigue, I slept fitfully that night. After tossing and turning for a while, I finally began to doze, only to awaken in a sweat after a horrible dream. I'd been pregnant with a vampire's baby, and it was drinking my blood, killing me from inside. I sat up with a start and the next thing I knew Edward was beside me. He didn't say anything, just lay down next to me and put his arm around me, pulling me down on his chest. His scent worked its magic, and I was asleep again within minutes.

I slept like a log the rest of the night.

When I woke in the morning, I felt more refreshed than I had in days. The bed next to me was empty, but I could hear movement downstairs. I poked my head through the curtain and watched as Edward poured boiling water into a small coffee pot. I smiled, thinking I'd better get down there before he burned it, and turned back to the bed, wishing I had something other than my jumpsuit to wear. I held it up to my face. Yeah, I really wished I had something else to wear. It didn't smell like Charlie anymore – just dirty human girl and old campfire smoke.

"Esme kept some clothes in the drawers under the bed. Maybe you can find something of hers to wear."

I poked my head out of the curtain again. Edward was standing at the foot of the ladder, smiling up at me.

"I thought you couldn't hear my thoughts."

"I can't. But I could hear you sniffing."

"Oh." I started to close the curtain. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

When I got downstairs, Edward had set out breakfast and gestured for me to sit before the fireplace. He'd made coffee, and there was toast and jam.

"I know it's not much, considering your diet of late, but I hope this will do."

I took a sip of coffee, looking around the room. "It's delicious." I'd been right, the windows let in so much natural light that we almost could have been outdoors. It was going to be another nice day, the sun already high in the sky.

I picked up a piece of toast. "How did you make this without a toaster?"

"I just put it on top of the stove."

"It's really good. Thank you." I finished the toast in no time, and took another tiny sip of coffee.

"You don't like coffee? I thought that's what all humans had for breakfast."

"I do like it. I'm just not sure how much I should drink."

"What do you mean?" He sat down across from me and leaned back, his hands on his legs.

"It's supposed to be bad for girls, make them too exciteable."

"Seriously?"

"That's what they always told us."

"Who's they?"

"The government. They issue dietary rules."

He was shaking his head, a smile working its way onto his face. "Well, are you feeling exciteable?"

"No, not really. I feel very rested, actually." I put the cup down and crossed my arms, trying to cover up.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine. Why?"

He made a gesture at my arms. "You look like you're trying to keep warm."

I glanced down at one of my shoulders. "Was this dress the style back when Esme bought it?"

"I guess it must have been."

"There isn't some reason why vampires need bare arms?"

"No," he chuckled. "I can't think of any reason why a vampire would need bare arms."

"I'm just not used to being this exposed."

He kept his smile, but his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You think you're too exposed?"

I nodded, moving one of my hands to cover the top of my chest. "You can see my collarbones in this."

"So?"

"So girls aren't supposed to show anything but their heads, hands and feet."

"My god." He stood and walked over to the windows by the desk. "Alice," he said under his breath, "you have got to be kidding me."

"What?"

He turned back to me. "I finally meet my mate, and she's from some kind of big-brother Amish-Mormon dystopia."

"Amish-Mormon dystopia," I repeated, kind of liking how that sounded. "I have no idea what that is."

"Let me guess. You're also uneducated." He wasn't angry, just frustrated.

I was angry, however, and stood too. "It's not my fault."

"I didn't say it was."

"I may not have gotten the education I wanted, but I'm not stupid."

"We've already established that."

"The schools were useless, but Charlie taught me as much he could."

"Did he? What did he teach you?"

"Some science, some engineering, some literature – he'd kept his college textbooks and we used to read them together."

"So you know how to read?"

"Yes, I fucking know how to read!"

He smiled, his mood improving. "I would have assumed girls weren't allowed to curse."

"They're not. That's another thing Charlie taught me."

He laughed out loud. "I think I like Charlie. He raised a little rebel, it seems."

"Damn right he did. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have had the guts to run away."

"In that case, I know I like Charlie." He came and stood in front of me. "Or we might not have met." He glanced over my bare shoulders, and then at my throat. "If you want me to get you some of the clothes you're used to, I will."

"No," I said immediately, not having to think about it. "These are fine."

"Good. This looks much better on you than that thing you were wearing last night."

"I was only wearing that because someone happened to rip my clothes off."

"Someone happened to rip your clothes off because they were soaked in ice water."

"Someone could have taken them off without ripping them, so that I could wear them again."

"Someone was trying to save your life as quickly as possible, and not be tempted to take it himself."

"Oh." Now I understood. "Thank you, then."

"You're welcome." He smiled down at me. "When you get angry, it stirs your blood even more than when you're moving."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's good. I love it."

"So you're going to be provoking my temper from now on?"

His smile grew larger. "I don't know if I can resist."

"That's not likely to work in your favor, you do realize." I tried to sound serious, but had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. He was feeling so happy again that it was contagious.

He chuckled and looked at me affectionately. "I'll try to keep it to a minimum. In the meanwhile, though, to make up for it, I want to you know that you can do whatever you want here. Rebel to your heart's content. Eat anything, wear anything, curse until you're blue in the face, I don't care."

"You don't?"

"No, of course not. You're free to do whatever you want, and I'll be happy to get you whatever you need to make that happen. Now, if you'll excuse me." He started for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Someone has to finish installing a bathroom for his over-exposed, foul-mouthed little rebel." He smiled at me over his shoulder. "I'll be done in about an hour."

**A/N: I feel bad that this is such a short chapter. The next one's rather short, too, and I just spent a good chuck of the afternoon trying to combine them. In the end, though, I think they work better separately. To make it up to you awesome people, I'm posting them both today. (You're welcome!) - kts**

**Oh - and no offense intended to any Amish or Mormon readers. Edward was most likely thinking of the most extreme examples of those religions, i.e., the Warren Jeffs case, and suffering a bit of culture shock.**


	11. Chapter 11

I washed the dishes, including my camping ones, while watching Edward through the window. He'd already pumped the well, and the water flow was strong and clean. Esme must have designed a tank that was warmed by the stove, because there was a hot water tap that worked as well.

Edward moved too fast for me to see the particulars of what he was doing, but it was obvious from the structure coming together that he was building some kind of an outhouse. I didn't mind using an outhouse, but it seemed awfully close to the cabin. I could imagine it would eventually start to smell pretty bad, and the thought made me feel self-conscious. Edward was in for a rude surprise if we stayed here very long. His little rebel was human, after all.

When the dishes were done, I decided to unpack my backpack and stow it. The few cans that were left got stacked by the sink, and the water bottles drained and rinsed, set aside with the drying dishes. Who knew if I'd need them again, but I decided to err on the side of caution. There was still something in one of the side pockets and I pulled out the chocolate syrup I'd added at the last minute back at the storage unit. I'd completely forgotten I had it, its size and shape outweighed by the cans and bottles. Darn it, I could have eaten this all those times I made do with cold stew juice.

"Ready to see it?" Edward was standing in the door frame, his mood almost exuberant.

"Absolutely."

"I hope you like it. If there's anything you want me to change, let me know."

He seemed overly concerned with what was surely just an outhouse, but when he opened its door, I saw why he was excited. He'd built me a real bathroom, with a sink and a toilet.

"Edward! How did you do this?"

"I dug a septic system."

I reached for his hand and checked his fingernails. "By hand?"

"Of course not, silly girl. Do you not have tools in your primitive culture? I used a shovel." He took my hand and pulled me inside.

"How did you get a toilet and a sink up here?"

"The same way I got the septic tank up here. I carried them."

"Damn."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry I couldn't fit it into the cabin, but there was no way."

I was still too overwhelmed to do anything other than shake my head. I went to the sink and turned a spigot. Water came rushing out. I flushed the toilet. It worked.

"You're kind of amazing, do you know that?" I finally said.

He didn't answer me, and I turned. "I'll do anything for you. If that makes me amazing to you, it's nothing compared to what you are to me."

"Your mate."

"My mate."

As a thank you for the bathroom, I didn't argue with him. "I need a minute in here." I kissed his cheek and gave him a gentle push. He walked back to the cabin, feeling the happiest I'd sensed yet.

When I returned to the cabin, Edward was in the kitchen holding the bottle of chocolate syrup up to his face.

"I know this scent," he looked at the label. "Chocolate." He flipped open the cap and dabbed a drop onto his finger. When he put it into his mouth, he groaned. "Oh my god."

"What?" I moved closer.

"I can see her."

"Who?"

"My mother. I can see her face. I remember." The joy he was feeling was beyond anything I'd experienced.

"Your mother?"

He nodded. "She worked at a drugstore and every night she'd bring me home a piece of candy. Chocolate was my favorite."

"You'd forgotten what she looked like?"

He was looking at the bottle with an expression of almost awe. "I'd forgotten everything. Vampires do that, they forget about their human lives before they were changed.

"Keep it, then. It's yours."

"Thank you." He put the syrup down gently, as if it were something precious.

"And I know where there's more, so don't be afraid to taste it all you want."

He looked at me, and I wasn't sure of his emotion. "And you think I'm amazing. I haven't been able to remember my parents for over a hundred years. With one taste of this, they're back."

"Don't give me all the credit. I didn't invent chocolate."

"You may as well have." He moved toward me, coming close enough to cup my face. His scent washed over me and I leaned into his touch, still trying to identify what he was feeling. It was something familiar, but it'd been a long time since I'd felt it myself. He swept his thumbs over my cheekbones and threaded his fingers into my hair, his touch so light I barely felt it. I wondered if he was going to kiss me again, and kind of hoped he would, but instead he just looked down into my eyes, his emotion increasing.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured.

I knew I wasn't, but couldn't sense any deceipt coming from him. He really seemed to believe it. I put my hand up on one of his arms, and that's when I figured out what he was feeling. He loved me.

It should have freaked me out. I'd only met him a couple of days ago, only started talking to him yesterday, for god's sake, but it didn't freak me out. Not at all. Rather, I felt like I could have stood like this with him forever, basking in the feeling. He loved me.

I was still trying to process it when he let go of me and stepped back, returning to the kitchen.

"There's ice in the ice-box now, too, so just let me know what groceries you'd like."

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" He turned back toward me.

"Is this what it would be like, if we were mates?"

"What do you mean?"

I gestured out the window toward the bathroom, and then to the ice-box. "Would you spend all your time doing things for me? Taking care of my every need?" It was supposed to be the other way around.

"Only if you wanted me to. If it made you happy. That's what mates do, make each other happy."

"But what if I never want to -" I cut myself off, suddenly embarrassed to bring up the subject of sex.

He seemed to know what I'd meant to ask. "Being mates isn't just about that."

"You could live with me without us ever – you know?"

"Of course."

"Vampires don't have the same needs men have?"

He tilted his head while he thought about my question. "I have no doubt you've been taught a lot of ridiculous things."

"That's what Charlie said whenever I asked him anything."

"What did he say about men's needs?"

"I was too embarrassed to ask him about that. He didn't remarry after my mother died, and it felt too personal."

His eyebrows rose. "Your mother is dead?"

I nodded. "She died before I was one, so I don't remember her either."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know what she looked like, anyway. Charlie kept pictures of her."

"How did she die?"

"She got pregnant again really soon after having me. The pregnancy wasn't going well, and one night she started bleeding. She didn't tell Charlie until the next morning, and by the time he got her to the hospital, it was too late. She'd lost too much blood. They lost the baby, too."

He didn't answer right away, but he didn't need to. I could feel his sympathy, although it was tinged with something else. Resolution, maybe?

"That's what you're afraid of, isn't it? Why you ran away? Getting pregnant."

I nodded.

"I can't tell you anything about men's needs as I was changed when I was only eighteen, and I don't remember that part of being human. All I can tell you is that a vampire's needs are simple. When we mate, we need our partner to be happy."

I smiled in relief. He wasn't going to make me feel guilty about my fears.

"But there's one thing you should know."

"What's that?"

He moved to pass me, leaning in to whisper in my ear as he reached my side. "I'm sterile. Vampires don't reproduce."

**A/N: Well, then. **


	12. Chapter 12

We spent the rest of the day exploring the woods around the cabin. Edward said we were only about twenty miles northeast of Forks, but it felt like we were the only two people on the planet. We didn't talk about our situation, or our relationship, or whatever it was. Instead, once he learned I knew a little about plants, he started quizzing me as we walked.

"What's this tree?"

"Acer macrophyllum. Big-leaf maple."

"And this one?"

"You don't know a cedar when you see one? How long did you live here?"

"I've never looked at the plants."

"Just the animals."

"Right." He gave me his hand to help me over a trunk that had fallen across the path. "What's that?" He pointed to some spiky foliage.

"Mahonia. Oregon grape." I picked a berry. "They're supposed to be edible." I put one in my mouth. "Nope." I spat it back out into my hand.

"Not edible?"

"Not good. Too bitter. Want to try?"

"No thanks. Let me know if anything tastes like chocolate, though."

We continued on, Edward holding my hand. "And this?" He pointed to some groundcover.

"That one's easy. Trillium, because of the three leaves."

I was enjoying this. No one had ever tested my knowledge of plants before, not even Charlie, and even though I didn't know all of them, I knew enough to genuinely impress Edward.

"What about this?"

"Sword fern. Polystichum munitum."

He raised an eyebrow. "My goodness."

"It's in the Dryopteridacea. That's the family of ferns it belongs to."

"Now you're just showing off."

"A little," I smiled. "This is the first time I've gotten to use what I know."

"And Charlie taught you all this?"

"No. He had a college book on ecology, and when he saw how interested I was in the botany part, he got me a book on native plants."

"So you're self-taught."

"I guess so."

"That's remarkable." He squeezed my hand lightly. "What would you do if you could have a career? Something with plants?"

"Oh, I'd love that. I'd work at a nursery if I could."

"That's your highest ambition?"

"No." I'd never told anyone my highest ambition because it was so unattainable. It would have just saddened Charlie that he couldn't make it happen, and the other students would have laughed at me. But Edward wouldn't laugh. "I'd be a botanist."

He didn't laugh. "I can see you doing that."

"You can?"

"Easily." His thoughts seemed to turned inward, and he turned us back toward the cabin.

He was silent most of the way back, only speaking to offer me help over puddles and logs. I didn't try to start a conversation, either, enjoying the peaceful companionship. I could tell he was thinking about me, and somehow that made me happy in itself.

I made my own dinner that night and ate in front of the fireplace while Edward browsed through Esme's collection of books. "There's a lot of poetry here. Do you like poetry?"

"Some, I guess."

"And plays. I didn't know Esme was such a fan of Shakespeare."

"I like Shakespeare."

"Let me guess. Your dad, not your school."

"You got it."

"It's all literature." He was upset.

"What's wrong with that?"

"There's no science at all, and definitely no botany."

"There never is," I snorted. "Welcome to my world."

"But do you understand how wrong that is? You could be the world's greatest botanist, but because you're female, you're relegated to making babies." He was almost as angry as he had been back at the river. "I need to go out."

"Where are you going?"

"To the dairy farm."

He was gone before I could say good-bye. Maybe hunger piqued his anger, or maybe the other way around; either way, I was left here suddenly alone. My eyes fell on the bathtub. Ah, that's what I'd do while he was gone.

There was enough hot water to fill it. I discarded my clothes on the floor, pulled the screen across the front of it, and stepped in with a moan. The water felt so good, almost as good as when Edward had healed my cut.

I found myself staring at the stove as I soaked, wondering about Esme's insistence on installing a kitchen, about Alice's vision, about the flow of energy I'd felt when I'd first entered the cabin. Even the most sceptical part of me had to admit that I felt like I belonged here, and I knew that I wanted to stay.

I lathered myself up with a bar of soap that Edward must have bought for me and let out a sigh. Edward. I had to make a decision, and I had to make it soon. It wasn't fair to string him along. I could probably stay here with him forever without committing to being his mate, and he'd let me do it without any pressure. The bathroom he'd built for me was perfect evidence of that. Clearly he wanted me to comfortable here, and for some length of time, but he hadn't given any indication – or felt any emotion – that he expected me to reciprocate in any way. Instead, he'd been overjoyed by a bottle of chocolate syrup.

I leaned my head against the tub and closed my eyes. His definition of mates wasn't at all what I'd expected. Two people making each other happy was hard to argue against, but if I did agree to it, would he really be happy if we remained platonic? Then again, would I?

I opened my eyes and looked down at my body. I'd always avoided seeing myself naked, never looking at myself longer than necessary in the shower, never glancing in the mirror when I dressed. I didn't like being reminded that I was female, that my future was already determined by the organs in my lower abdomen. I ran a hand down my stomach and rested it just below my belly button. This part of my body had always seemed like an internal enemy, something I'd have done away with if I could. But I hadn't forgotten Charlie's words about sex being for the pleasure of both, and although they hadn't made complete sense to me at the time, now I was beginning to wonder. Edward's kisses had awoken something in me, something I'd never felt before. Something good. And if he really was sterile, if I didn't have to worry about getting pregnant, then maybe … maybe I should say yes?

Oh god, what was I thinking? Was I really sitting here giving serious thought to mating with a vampire? Yes. Yes, I was.

I suddenly submerged myself in the water, holding my breath, hoping for a sign to help me decide.

When I finally came up gasping, I heard the door open and listened as Edward plopped himself down onto one of the chairs. He was feeling better, and his contentment increased as he took a deep breath. "It smells divine in here. Like Swan soup."

I laughed. "Why do you call me Swan instead of Bella?" I liked it when he called me Swan, I realized. It made me feel like his equal.

"Because of your neck."

"My neck?" I put a hand up to it, wondering what he meant.

"Your neck," he sighed, not caring to explain further, but he didn't need to. His emotions spoke for him. He loved my neck. He loved me.

I stepped out of the bath and dried myself with a towel. Wrapping it around myself, I peeked around the screen. Edward was sitting in the chair opposite me, his head back, his eyes closed.

"Edward? I've decided."

**A/N: I know, another cliffie (don't throw things at me), but Bella had some thinkin' to do. You guys will like the next chapter, though. **

**Thanks for all your comments - some of you are very prescient, and one reviewer made me laugh out loud when she called this story 'amazeballs.' Maybe that's another power vamps should have in this story.**

**- kts**


	13. Chapter 13

He opened his eyes, and the look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. "You've decided?"

I nodded and bit my lip. "I'll be your mate."

"You will?"

I nodded again, and the next thing I knew he was standing right in front of me.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

He swept his eyes over my shoulders and across my chest. "Is it all right if I touch you?"

"Yes."

He lifted one finger and ran it down my throat, over my collarbone and down to the edge of the towel, where he lingered for a moment before closing his arms around me and pulling me against him. I could feel his relief. It was mixed with happiness, love, and something like trepidation.

"I'll have to be so careful not to hurt you. If I ever bruise you again, I'll never forgive myself."

"I'll tell you if you're hurting me, don't worry."

His arms tightened fractionally, and I let myself relax into him. He seemed content just to hold me, his fingers playing with the damp tendrils of my hair.

I tilted my face up with a smile. "You can kiss me, too."

He kissed my forehead first, then my nose, then my cheek. His lips were as soft and cool as I remembered, and he kept his kisses light, whether because he was afraid of hurting me or because that was just the way he kissed, I didn't know. I felt his hand come up into my hair, and he turned my head so that he could kiss my neck, his mouth opening as he inhaled.

"I thought you smelled good before," he murmured, "but now? After your bath? My god, woman."

I turned my face closer to his, and buried my nose in his hair. It felt so soft, and I reached up to run my fingers through it. He moaned at my touch, and came up to kiss my lips, this time harder, his movements quickening, his hold on me tightening.

He was starting to feel more aggressive, and he ran his hand across the top of my back, stopping at my neck and turning my head again. He pulled me even closer and opened my mouth with his. It was a good thing he was holding on to me so tightly because when his tongue met mine, I think I would have fallen to the floor otherwise.

The effect his tongue had on my hand was nothing compared to what it did to my mouth. I clung to his shoulders, overwhelmed by what was happening. My body's reaction was so immediate and so intense, I wondered if it was normal. My knees felt utterly useless, and my stomach was doing flips. There was something else happening, too, somewhere lower than my stomach. Despite not understanding what my body was doing, I knew I wanted more, and pushed myself even deeper into Edward's arms, returning his kiss, wishing suddenly that he could read my thoughts because then he'd know to never stop.

He did stop, though. His lips left mine and he loosened his hold. I kept my grip on his shoulders as I opened my eyes. He was looking down at me, his expression conflicted. He was still happy, very happy actually, but frustrated again. His eyes dipped down to my towel, which had come loose in our embrace, and I felt a wave of desire wash over him. I knew what it was because I was feeling the exact same thing. In fact, it was just getting stronger – for both of us – the longer he looked at me.

The lines of his face had grown taut and his eyes were narrowed, smoldering in their intensity. "You smell different again."

"I do?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Almost irresistably so."

"You don't have to resist. I said I'd be your mate, and I meant it. In every way."

He looked into my eyes deeply, trying and failing once more to read my thoughts. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Still he hesitated. I sensed his doubt, and knew he must be worried I was giving in to his scent and not making a conscious decision. I did the only thing I could think of to convince him and arched my shoulders, making the last bit of towel that was still clinging to itself give way.

I pulled away just enough to let it drop to the floor. "I want you, Edward. I want you the way you want me."

The next thing I knew I was on my back on the bed, Edward's delicious weight holding me down. How he got us both up the ladder so fast I'd never know, but I didn't care. All that mattered was that I was underneath him again, only this time he wasn't angry with me. This time he loved me.

He was kissing me again, his tongue tasting me, and my body had the same reaction as before. It seemed to respond to Edward of its own volition, no longer needing me to make any decisions about how to move or what to do. I'd been right, Edward's kisses had wakened something inside of me, something that recognized this as good, something that wanted more.

I felt one of his hands glide up an arm I had around his neck, then skim back down and move to the side of my torso. His touch was light, gentle, almost too gentle, especially given the amount of desire I could feel pouring out of him. I tightened my arms around his neck and kissed him harder, trying to tell him he could use more strength, but he didn't seem to get the message. If anything, his touch became even lighter and slower as I felt his hand move to my waist and over my hip. He continued down my thigh until he reached the back of my knee. He stroked the skin there lightly and then bent my leg, bringing it up to rest next to his hip, shifting his weight and pressing into me at the same time.

I groaned involuntarily at the sensation of his weight between my legs. I couldn't believe how good it felt, how natural, like my body had been designed just for this, just for him. I brought my other leg up and tightened my thighs around his hips, pressing up at the same time, and it was Edward's turn to groan.

Suddenly he pulled away, but was back in less than second, as naked as I was. He held himself above me, looking down at my mouth, my neck, my breasts. I couldn't believe I'd been embarrassed this morning when he'd seen my collarbones – now all I wanted was for him to see me everywhere. For the first time in my life, I was glad that I was female; ecstatic even, to be having this effect on someone. No, not just someone. Him. Only him.

When he leaned down to kiss me, his touch on my lips was light. I started to reach up for more, but he moved to my neck, then the base of my throat, then down to my breasts. I felt his fingers first, delicately tracing the curve before cupping one and bending down to kiss it. The shiver that ran through me as his tongue swept over my nipple was so powerful I jerked away.

He looked up at me, concerned. I shook my head and gave him a small smile of apology. He seemed to understand, and bent again. Oh. My. God. I dug my hands into the sheet underneath me and arched my back, pushing myself up to him. He moved to the other breast and my body went through the same sensations all over again.

His magical tongue then continued further down, sweeping cool trails over my stomach that left me feeling hotter and hotter by the second. Where was he going? Why didn't he come back up here and kiss me again? Then I felt his hands on my thighs, opening them, and he did kiss me again.

My body was its own creature now. I had no control over my hips as they writhed and arched, sinking and rising in their own communication with Edward's tongue. My head was thrashing back and forth on the pillow, and I'd let go of the sheet only to bury my nails into my own palms, the pain the only thing that reassured me this was still me.

I wasn't exactly sure what happened next. Edward started licking faster. His hands were cupping my behind and I felt them tighten. He moaned, his movements turning from licking to sucking. One of his hands let go of me. Then I felt his fingers join his mouth between my legs.

A lightening bolt shot through me, a sensation I'd never known was possible, almost like something inside of me exploded, and my entire body stiffened, every muscle, every tendon. I cried out involuntarily again, and swear I lost consciousness for a second or two as the feeling peaked, my muscles instantly switching from completely tensed to completely useless.

I sank down into the bed, unable to do anything other than wallow in the remnants of pleasure that were still sweeping over me. Oh, Edward, I finally thought, if I'd only known. If I'd only known. I felt him moving back up my body, felt him hover over me, then bend down and kiss my neck. His weight shifted and he lay down next to me, curling me up in his arms, his fingers tracing over my back and into my hair.

He was still feeling desire, a lot of it, but it was tempered by so much satisfaction that it confused me. As my mind began to pull itself back together, I tried to understand how he could still want me so much, but be so pleased at the same time. They'd taught us in Men's Needs that it was the wife's foremost responsibility to help her husband reach climax, and they'd been surprisingly graphic about what that entailed. I shifted my body closer to Edward's. There it was. His erection was just as hard as they'd said it would be. But if he hadn't climaxed, why was he so happy?

I opened my eyes, hoping his expression would help me figure it out. It was almost dark in the cabin now, but there was still enough light left that I could see his eyes. He was watching me, and brought his hand to my face, drawing his thumb lightly over my cheekbone. I meant to give him a small smile, but as soon as I moved my lips, they pulled up into a ridiculously wide grin. He smiled back, and bent down to kiss my nose. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling me up onto his chest, and sighed in contentment.

"So delicious," he whispered into my hair.

"That was incredible," I whispered back. "If only I'd known."

"Known what?"

"That it could feel that way."

"What would you have done? Marry Barrow?"

"Are you kidding me? No, no way!" I looked up at him in indignation. He was teasing me. "Very funny."

I felt him chuckle and take a deep breath, relishing my quick rise to anger. "All right, what would you have done?"

I smiled into his chest. "I'd have kissed you back by the river, the first time I wanted to."

He tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. "Kiss me every single time you want to."

"I will." I did.

"Good. Now get some rest."

"But what about your -" I started to move my hand down his stomach. He caught it and brought it up his lips, kissing my fingers.

"Let's just lie here for a little while. You feel so good." He ran his other hand down my back.

"But you haven't -" I really wanted him to climax, too. I knew a lot of what they'd taught us at the Home had been bullshit, but some of it had worked its way into my subconscious, and I was afraid that if I didn't please Edward, he'd be disappointed with me – and rightfully so.

"No, but you've just given me more pleasure in the last fifteen minutes than I've had in the last one hundred and fifty years combined."

"I did?"

"So delicious," he repeated, kissing my head again. "And I didn't hurt you."

"You were worried about that?" Maybe that'd been the trepidation I'd felt earlier.

I felt him nod. "I'm new to this, too, and I wasn't sure about my self-control."

"Are you still worried?"

"Not any more, no. But truly, I just want to lay here and enjoy how alive you feel in my arms, how delicious you smell."

"Okay." I settled more comfortably into his chest, letting my eyes close, letting my already relaxed body relax even more.

"Besides," he whispered, playing with my hair, "we've got all night."

**A/N: I think of the three Edwards I've written now, this is the one I like the most (clears throat).**


	14. Chapter 14

When I awoke the next morning, I was immediately aware of two things. First, I'd slept deeply again, my whole body feeling refreshed and reenergized. Second, I was alone. I took a minute to stretch, listening for Edward's movements beneath me. It sounded like he was making breakfast, and I quickly pulled on something of Esme's and joined him.

"You don't have to cook for me, you know." I took a sip of coffee and smiled at him.

"I kind of enjoy it. Does it taste bad?"

"No. It's delicious." I fought back a grin as I took another bite of eggs, looking around the cabin as I ate. Something was different, but it took me a minute to figure it out. I put my plate down and walked over to the desk.

"Where did you get these?" I asked quietly, running my hands over the books.

"The library at the University in Seattle."

"When?"

"Last night, after you fell asleep."

I opened the first one, a thick textbook devoted solely to botany, and flipped through the pages. I couldn't quite believe a book like this even existed. The next one in the stack was about ecosystems, and the one under that temperate rainforests.

"Did you steal them?"

"Let's call it borrowing."

"Won't they be missed?"

"I don't get the sense much science is taught there any more. They were in a section closed to the public."

Edward had come to stand behind me, and he put his hands on my shoulders, leaning down to kiss my head. "I'd have brought you more, but they're hard to carry."

I shook my head, still a bit stunned. "I thought you tossed septic tanks around for sport."

He chuckled and pulled me back against him. "It's not the weight, but I've only got two hands. I'll find a way to get more."

I took his hands and wrapped his arms around me. How could I ever repay him for this? How could I ever thank him sufficiently? I tilted my head so that I could see his face. He was pleased with my reaction to the books, so pleased in fact that I could tell he was already planning to bring me the whole library.

I turned in his arms and reached up to hug him. "How can I ever thank you for this?"

"By reading them."

"That's all?" I chuckled.

He put his forehead down on mine. "Yes, my little botanist-to-be, that's all."

"Why didn't you wake me last night?"

"I couldn't bear to. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful, sleeping." He kissed my cheek. "And I wanted to get you some books."

"I'm awake now."

His eyebrows lifted. "Yes, you are, aren't you?"

"Hm-hmm. Very awake, and very well-rested." I reached for his mouth with mine and felt the first wave of desire wash over him, awakening my own.

"You don't have to, Swan," he murmured against my lips. "I don't expect anything in return."

"I want to, Edward." I did. I pressed myself into him. "I want you."

He was still for a moment, his fingers in my hair. "I'm a little worried about your first time. You might bleed, and I'm not sure how I'll react if you do."

"I thought you weren't tempted by my blood any more."

"I'm not, but I don't know what to expect. I'm afraid my instincts may take over."

"There must be some safe way."

He smiled down at me, amused no doubt at the determination in my voice. "Actually, I did have an idea on my way to Seattle last night."

"What?"

"How'd you like to take another bath?"

I smiled up at him. "I'd love to."

The stove hadn't been lit long enough for the water tank to heat entirely so when the tub was full, the water was only slightly warm. I tested it with a finger and felt Edward move behind me. He lifted my shirt over my head, brushed my hair over one shoulder, and kissed the back of my neck. I could tell he was still worried, but he was mostly feeling love.

I turned and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Don't worry, Edward. You won't hurt me."

"I know I don't want to hurt you, but that's all I'm sure of."

I slid his shirt off his arms and slipped my hands back up them, enjoying the cool smoothness of his skin. I ran them over his shoulders and down his chest, leaning forward to kiss his neck. Oh, he smelled so good, and it was twice as potent when he was undressed. I pressed myself into him, needing his strength to support me.

"Lets get in the tub," he moaned, his fingers pulling at the waistband of my skirt.

We finished undressing and Edward picked me up, stepping in first and sitting down with me on his lap. I straddled his waist and he pulled me down for a kiss, a deep kiss, one that easily conveyed how much he wanted me. With him underneath me, I could be the one in charge of how long the kiss lasted, and with the way his tongue electrified my body, I didn't think I would ever stop.

His body felt even cooler in the water, and for some reason that was exciting to me, too. I liked his cool skin, I realized, and anything that made it feel cooler was good. More than good. I let out an involuntary groan and pressed my torso down onto his, needing to feel all of him.

I could feel all of him. He was hard already, and I was suddenly burning with desire to find out what his penis felt and looked like. I sat up and took it in my hand.

"Ahhh," he put his head back and closed his eyes. "Your hands are so warm."

"Good warm?"

"So good."

I stroked him lightly, enraptured with how hard he'd become so quickly, how I could feel him throbbing under my touch. I knew he didn't have any blood, and wondered briefly if his ejaculate could contain enough venom to change me, but by this point I didn't even care. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have him inside of me, and I eased my hips up above him, guiding him to my entrance.

I watched his face as I lowered myself. His eyes were on mine, his jaw taut. His hands were on my hips, and I felt his fingers tighten as he entered me. His eyes widened and then he shut them tightly. "Oh my god. So warm."

I was glad he liked my warmth, because I'd decided I absolutely loved his coolness. What I'd always feared would be a painful at worst, uncomfortable at best, experience was instead soothing. He felt so big, just the few inches that were in me, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me, if I was too small. I raised myself up and lowered again, getting in another inch of him, but then suddenly it was like we hit a barrier.

His eyes opened and he watched me carefully. "You can stop. You can stop any time."

"I know," I whispered, realizing it was my hymen that was in the way. "But I don't want to. Are you ready?"

He nodded and gripped my hips a little tighter. I eased up again and came back down with more weight. I felt something give way and in the next instant, he was completely inside of me. Oh, he felt so good. So good, so hard. It hadn't hurt at all, or if it did, I couldn't feel it because of the soothing coolness that was now the center of my universe.

I lowered myself down to his chest and his arms came up around me. He was panting, inhaling off my skin, and we lay together for a moment letting our bodies adjust to each other. If he'd been pleased last night, now he was in heaven. He was giving off so many different emotions I couldn't even begin to try to sort them out, but one thing they all had in common was bliss. I smiled into his chest, wanting to give him even more, and started to sit up.

"Don't move." His arms tightened.

Had I read him wrong? There was urgency in his voice, but I didn't sense any worry that he was going to hurt me. "Did I bleed?"

"A little, but it's not that."

"What then?"

"I need another minute."

"For what?"

"To get used to how good you feel." He burrowed his face into my neck. "Otherwise I'm going to come the instant you start moving."

"But I want you to."

He tilted his head back and opened his eyes, cupping my face with one hand and kissing me lightly. "But I don't want to," he smiled.

"You don't?" Now I was confused. Wasn't that the whole point of sex?

"Not yet. Not until I have enough control to make sure you come with me."

Oh. "Like last night?"

"Like last night." He moved his other hand down to my lower back, pushing me down the tiniest bit deeper. Just that slight movement inside of me was enough to remind me of how phenomenal he'd made me feel.

"In that case, take all the time you need."

He kissed my neck again. "Oh, I will, my beautiful Swan," he murmured. "I'm going to take all the time in the world with you."

**A/N: Sorry this is a bit later than usual. I was working on a rather intense chapter and lost track of time.**

**Thanks again to everyone who's reading – and a special thanks to archy12 for pointing out an embarrassing lay/lie grammatical error in ch. 13. You really would think I'd have those straight by now, but I guess not. It's funny how the brain just won't learn certain things - mine, anyway. I shouldn't include any of you in my mental failings :)**

**Anyhoo, I'm going back to work on the rest of the story. Hope you liked this chapter! - kts**


	15. Chapter 15

"Edward, do you know what photosynthesis is?" I looked up at him over my book.

"It's how plants use the sun to make energy, right?"

"Yes, but I mean how it works."

He shook his head. "It's been over forty years since I had to sit through high school biology."

"Get this." I returned to my book. "Plants absorb water from their roots, and carbon dioxide from the air. When sunlight hits a leaf, it works like an electric charge, separating the water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen. The plant then uses the hydrogen with its carbon dioxide to make a sugar it can use for food, and it releases the unneeded oxygen into the air." This was the first time I'd actually understood it. "Isn't that amazing?"

"It is," he agreed. Edward wasn't nearly as interested in this stuff as I was, but he was happy to listen when I got excited about something new.

"They can take light energy and change it into chemical energy."

"I get that."

"They make their own food."

"It's pretty impressive when you think about it."

"No kidding. Animals can't do that. Without plants, there would no life on earth at all."

"But would there be life on earth without animals?" He liked to see how far ahead I could think.

"No, because the plants need the carbon dioxide that we exhale."

"And what's that called?"

"Symbiosis."

"Smarty pants."

I smiled and bit my lip, returning to my book, but I couldn't concentrate any longer. I'd been reading for two hours, and decided to take a break. I went over to the ice box and pulled out an apple, looking at it in a new light.

"Did you know that botanically there's no such thing as a vegetable? That that's a culinary term?"

"No, I didn't know that."

"Anything a plant produces that houses its seeds is considered a fruit." I took a bite of the apple and walked over to his chair, making myself comfortable on his lap.

"So what's a vegetable?"

"Just a fruit that isn't sweet."

"Ah." He pulled me to his chest, and buried his face in my neck. "You're definitely a fruit, then."

I laughed, swallowed my apple, and kissed him. "That's what apple tastes like. Do you remember?"

"Yes." He put his head back. "We had an apple tree in our backyard. I used to climb it." He closed his eyes, trying to remember more. "I'd stay up there for hours, daydreaming and eating apples if I got hungry."

Edward and I had been in the cabin for almost a week – the best week of my life. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to for the first time I could remember. Edward didn't expect me to do chores, to attend to him, to do anything except what I pleased. He didn't even expect sex, letting me initiate it whenever I was in the mood, which, luckily for him, was pretty damn often.

The first few days, I was so confused that I couldn't quite relax and enjoy it. I'd thought for sure becoming someone's mate or wife, or whatever I was, would entail something onerous, and I kept waiting for Edward to surprise me with a dark underside to our arrangement. Instead, I woke each morning to the smell of coffee and more books on my desk. On the third morning, he took me outside and showed me the garden he'd dug on the south side of the cabin, asking me what seeds he should get. But it wasn't until the fourth morning, when he showed me where he'd staked out space to erect a greenhouse and asked for my imput on how I wanted it designed, that I gave in and quit worrying.

The next challenge was figuring out what I could do for him in return. With the exception of Charlie, no one had ever treated me this kindly before. I couldn't cook for him, and there weren't any chores that he couldn't do faster himself. Sex made him ridiculously happy, but then it did me too, so that didn't seem like a fair trade. Finally, two days ago, I'd looked up from a book to see him smelling the chocolate syrup again, his eyes closed in concentration, and I got an idea.

That night I made myself a tomato salad, and reached over to kiss him after I'd taken the first bite. "Can you taste that? It's tomato."

He wrinkled his nose. "I used to hate them."

"You did?"

"I think so. Kiss me again."

I smiled and reached over. He held my mouth to his, not really kissing me, but inhaling my scent. When he let me go, his eyes were closed.

"My mother made a dish once using those that was the most dreadful thing I'd ever eaten. I remember thinking I was going to throw up."

"I'm sorry," I laughed, "I was trying to do something nice for you, not bring back bad memories."

"Any memory is a good memory." He opened his eyes and smiled. "I'm just sorry to have to tell you that even you can't make tomatoes taste good."

"No one's perfect. Do you remember was your favorite food was?"

He shook his head.

"We'll keep trying till we find it."

And so I'd found a way to help him get some memories back of his family and his childhood. His senses were so strong that any whiff of a remembered food could unlock something, and the more we did it, the faster his memory seemed to return.

Now I held up the apple. "Do you want to try taking a bite?"

"Look at you. My own little Eve."

I laughed. "Yes, Edward," I tried to say seductively, "take a bite of my apple."

"Oh, I'd love to take a bite of your apple."

We were up in the loft before I knew it, Edward pressing me down into the bed.

"I meant that figuratively, of course," he murmured into my neck.

"I know, you silly man." I smiled and closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands on my body. He'd learned exactly the right amount of pressure to use, his touch gentle but passionate.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get over how good you smell." He was breathing deeply, turning my head to give himself better access.

I was still just as affected by his scent, too, although it no longer sedated me as much as it had at first. Now it mostly just aroused me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and brought one of my legs up, using it to pull him closer, while I felt his hand slip under my shirt.

"I don't feel sedated any more by your scent," I whispered as his cool fingers found one of my nipples. My breasts seemed to be endlessly fascinating to him.

"Good," he answered. "I like it when you move." He tweaked my nipple gently and I gasped, squirming against him. "Like that."

Oh, moving I could do. I arched up against him, rubbing my pelvis against his. He groaned and pressed back, his erection already evident. His love and his lust had blended into one emotion, one that I recognized immediately now, partly because I was starting to feel it, too. He was so good to me, so good in every way, that I'd have had to be made of stone not to return his feelings. And I wasn't made of stone, definitely not made of stone.

I started pulling at his clothes, suddenly desperate to have his skin against mine. He had us both naked in a second, and I writhed up to him, loving the sensation of his cool smooth skin so much. He'd been working to pace himself to match my needs, to make sure I always got as much pleasure out of our trysts as he did, but every now and then he slipped, and I smiled as I felt the first wave of urgency, felt him reach down and grasp my ankles, pulling my legs up around his hips.

He rubbed himself against me, taking immense satisfaction in how wet I was, and then began to slowly enter me. He always entered me slowly, telling me once that he was most afraid of hurting me at that moment, the moment of penetration, because I felt so good. I didn't mind, not one bit. In fact, the slower he went, the more it excited me, my anticipation growing to the point of desperation.

I needed him, I realized, as he began thrusting. I needed him as much as I needed air to breathe, water to drink. He was already the sun in my life, the reason I woke up in the morning. I loved him.

I dug my fingernails into his back and clung to him as tightly as I could, while my hips matched his thrust for thrust, trying to use my body to tell him how I felt, my lips already unable to form words. He seemed to understand, his love increasing with his thrusts. He changed his position slightly, pulling himself up a fraction of an inch, and I felt the first wave of my orgasm beginning. Oh, he knew just where to stroke me, and exactly how fast to move. I threw my head back on the pillow, moaning my release, and he followed me seconds later, moaning his own.

He collapsed on top of me and I cradled his head to mine, our breaths intermingling along with our limbs.

"Symbiosis," I finally whispered.

He opened his eyes and smiled at me. I ran a hand over his cheek and down his jaw.

"Does that make you the plant, and me the animal?"

I shook my head. "It makes us mates," I smiled, acknowledging for the first time that I was his.

The swell of love that surged through him was the strongest I'd felt yet, and he curled his arms around me, pulling me closer, rolling off a little to the side but bringing me with him.

"It does."

"We are."

"We are." He reached up and brushed my hair back lightly from my face. "I love you, Swan."

"I know. I can feel it." I put my hand on his chest.

"You can feel it?"

"I can feel your emotions."

He tilted my face up to his. "That's not fair, given that I can't hear your thoughts."

"Then I'll have to say it. I love you, too."

**A/N: I know, it seems a little soon for ILY's, but there's a reason. All shall be revealed ...**


	16. Chapter 16

More weeks passed. Now that I'd fully committed to Edward, his mood was always happy. I never once sensed frustration, trepidation, or even boredom. He was perfectly content to let me spend all day with my nose in a book, perfectly happy to listen when I got excited by something I read, perfectly willing to make me a pot of coffee whenever I asked. He was perfect. Life was perfect. I'd never imagined that someone could live this way, and never once in my wildest dreams imagined that someone would be me.

I took a break from reading and looked out the window as Edward put the finishing touches on my greenhouse. Of course, having your own personal vampire helped, but it wasn't his speed and strength that I valued the most. It was his companionship. He made me happy just by being in the cabin with me, just by sitting in his chair with a volume of Shakespeare. I used to love any second I could get alone back in Forks, but now I hated it when he left. He usually only went out late, after I'd fallen asleep, but I'd always wake in the morning knowing that he'd left. I didn't sleep as well on those nights.

We hadn't talked about the future yet, although I'd been giving it a lot of thought. Even though I'd only known Edward for a short time, I already knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. In fact, I couldn't imagine not spending the rest of my life with him, he'd become that important to me. The question was whether to do that as a human or a vampire. Edward liked me being human, liked my warmth, and I didn't want to take that away from him. But he'd be alone again, forever, if and when I died, and I couldn't bear the thought of that, either.

I looked over my impressive library of science textbooks. I wanted to learn everything in every one of them, and I wanted to use what I learned. The chances of doing that were better as a human since vampires weren't able to integrate into society any longer. Maybe we could move to another country if there were any that allowed women to get college degrees and work. That would mean leaving the cabin, however, and I was almost as attached to it as I was to Edward.

I finally gave up trying to sort out the future and went to join Edward outside.

"Look at this," he smiled, lifting a hinged window. "You can prop this up when your plants need fresh air." He moved to the door to show me something else. "I attached a plumbing line to the well. Watch." He reached inside, twisted something, and sprinklers in the ceiling began to spray the shelves where soon I'd be growing – growing what? Whatever I wanted, I realized. Winter vegetables. Orchids. Bromeliads.

"What a good idea. You could have been an architect, do you know that?"

"I wonder if I wanted to. This was so much fun to build."

"I know, I could feel it. I'd ask you to build me a house, but I love the cabin too much."

"A house. Now that would be fun." He stepped back to look at the structure. "I was wondering if you needed grow lights. I could try installing solar panels if you do."

He was feeling so hopeful that I almost agreed, but then something occurred to me, something that'd been bothering me. "Where are you getting all of these materials?"

"Am I stealing them, do you mean?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Some of the more specialized items, like the glass, I've gotten in Seattle."

I looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

"And I paid for them."

"Good."

"But I helped myself to a few things at the hardware store in Forks."

"Good." The hardware store was owned by one of men who'd been at the Presentation.

"Oh, you like that?"

"Stick it to the man," I smiled, leaning into him.

"Fight the power." He bent down and kissed my head.

"FHG."

"What?"

"Oh, it's just this thing Charlie and I used to joke about. FHG is the Forks Home for Girls, but we changed it to mean I fucking hate the government."

"I saw that the last time I was in Forks. It was spraypainted on a wall by the hardware store."

"It was?" I pulled away, amazed. Grafitti was a serious crime.

He nodded. "In fact, that wasn't the only place I saw it."

"Oh, no. Charlie." He must have gone even more crazy after I ran away. "I have to see him." How had I not thought of that yet? What was the matter with me? I'd just spent almost a month within twenty miles of my father, and hadn't once thought to find a way to reassure him that I was okay. "I have to see him, Edward," I repeated with more emphasis. "He has to know I'm okay."

"We can go right now."

"He's at work. We can't just walk into the sawmill."

"We can't?"

"No. Security. You don't have papers, and I could be in trouble for running away."

"We can try to sneak in tonight."

"Could we?"

He suddenly frowned and turned away, cocking his head as if he were listening. "Maybe we won't need to. Someone's coming." He moved to stand in front of me like a shield. "He's thinking about you."

"He is?"

"Go inside. I'll be back soon."

He was gone before I could argue, but I probably wouldn't have. Someone looking for me couldn't be good. The only person I'd want to find me would be Charlie, and he should be at work.

I went back in and tried to do some more reading, but I couldn't concentrate, and the longer I sat by myself, the more agitated I grew. I got up and started pacing, pretending I was doing housework, but really keeping my eyes on the windows, needing Edward to return. I really hated it when he left. The world was just wrong when he was gone.

I decided to dust Esme's small collection of artworks, the ones that were on the mantle. That was one chore that never occurred to Edward. She only had a few things, but one of them I'd always meant to take a closer look at. It was a figurine of a bird about to take off into flight, and as I picked it up, I recognized it as a swan.

"Esme," I whispered. Did she really build this cabin for me? Did that explain the flow of energy I'd felt when I'd first entered? I turned the figurine over gently in my hands. A swan in flight. That was me, running away. But it was something else, too. The bird was stretching its wings, its neck craned to the sky, its entire body wanting to lift itself to something better. That was me, too. I brought it to my chest with a smile and cradled it.

I thought I'd been cradling it, but as soon as I tightened my fingers around it, I felt it break. I looked at the broken pieces in horror. It hadn't just cracked down the middle, it had disintegrated, most of it falling to the floor through my fingers. It had felt so solid when I'd picked it up, but it must have been older and more fragile than I'd realized. I just hoped it wasn't valuable, and that Esme wouldn't be upset that I'd broken it.

I quickly swept up the mess and was just disposing of it when Edward returned, his presence and his expression immediately reassuring.

"Your father's looking for you."

"He is? He's out there?"

"No, that wasn't him."

"How could you tell?"

"Whoever it was was thinking about you as a nuisance, and thinking about Charlie as hopeless."

"So you didn't talk to him?"

"No, not this time, but I think he's coming back – or someone else is – tomorrow."

I sat down. "How do you know that?"

Edward sat across from me, a small smile on his face. "Charlie's organized the sawmill workers into a search party. Every day one slips away to search while the rest cover for him. They've been working their way north."

I let out a breath, amazed at Charlie's good thinking and persistence. I felt awful again for a moment that he was working so hard to find me and in return, I'd barely given him a thought – but I told myself it was only because I'd been in such paradise with my books and Edward, not because I was an ungrateful wretch of a daughter. And a nuisance, too, apparently.

"Why did this man think I was a nuisance?"

"He didn't seem to think there was much chance of finding you. He thought he was on a wild-goose chase, and that Charlie needed to accept that you were probably dead."

"Poor Charlie. He must have been so worried about me. I wish I'd thought to contact him sooner."

"I think Charlie's okay. This man's thoughts made him seem like he's on a mission, and not just to find you."

"No? What else?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Is Charlie as much of a rebel as you?" He smiled at me.

"No, not really. I mean, privately he was, but not in public."

"I think that's changed. I think your running away has affected him, and not just him."

"Why? What's he doing?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say he's trying to bring down the government."

**A/N: Of course I wouldn't leave Charlie behind to suffer – what kind of monster do you take me for? ;) In fact, if the rest of the story pans out the way I think it will, he's going to be crucial.**

**Sorry this is so late tonight – this chapter needed some work (it probably still does) and I had a few other things going on today.**

**kts**


	17. Chapter 17

That evening I wrote Charlie a note explaining that I was fine – more than fine – and telling him exactly where he could find me. After dark fell, I told Edward which room was Charlie's at the mill, and watched as he slipped away into the night, my note in hand.

He was back in fifteen minutes, carrying a bag of groceries. "Sorry that took so long."

I reached up to kiss him. "You found my dad's room okay?"

"No problem. His light was out, so I slid the note under the door."

"And you got past security?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I've never understood why people on the sixth floor don't lock their windows." He put the bag down in the kitchen and started unpacking. "Do you want anything to eat before you go to bed?"

"No, but thanks. I'm going to stay up a bit longer, anyway. I'm too wound up to sleep."

He finished putting things away and came to stand in front of me, reaching up to caress my neck. "The government is right, coffee makes you exciteable. You had what, two pots today?"

"Three." I leaned into his touch. "And exciteable is good."

"It is?"

"Hm-hmm." I stretched up to kiss him. "Trust me. When I get like this, there's only thing sure to calm me down."

"Is there, now." He pulled me closer, and buried his face in my neck. "And what would that be?"

"My mate." I smiled as I felt his happiness swell. He loved it when I acknowledged our relationship. His happiness wasn't the only thing swelling, and I slipped my arms around his waist, bringing him even closer. "Now, take me upstairs and calm me down."

We spent most of the next afternoon outdoors, both of us anxious to see if we'd get a visitor. Edward was gathering firewood just inside the treeline, keeping an ear out for any mental activity. He'd offered to head toward town and meet whoever might be coming half-way, but I preferred him to stay with me. Instead, I lit a fire in the fireplace even though it was a warm day, and hoped the smoke would be enough of a guide.

I was planting a row of lettuce seeds when Edward appeared next to me.

"Someone's coming."

"Can you tell who it is?"

"I think so. He's very, very excited."

"Is it Charlie?"

"Would any other man be remembering a time when you stole his scissors and cut off all your hair?"

"Nope," I grinned and stood, wiping my hands. "That's Charlie. I was ten and thought it was stupid that boys got to have short hair but girls didn't. How far away is he?"

"About a mile." He paused, listening. "He can see our smoke, so he should be here soon."

Ten minutes later Charlie emerged from the forest. I'd gone inside to wash up, and the instant I saw him I ran outside and threw myself into his arms. "Dad!"

"Bella," he hugged me to him as tightly as he could and lifted me off my feet. "When I got your note this morning, it was the best news I'd ever gotten, but it's even better to see you again with my own eyes." He put me down and looked me over. "You look great." He seemed surprised, and stepped back, taking in the cabin. "You've been living here?"

"Not the whole time. At first I was camping." I hugged him again. It was so good to see him. "Did you know it was me who took your stuff?"

"Of course I did. Who else would spill chocolate syrup on the floor?"

I laughed and let him go, turning to introduce him to Edward, who was standing in the doorframe. "Dad, this is Edward Cullen. He found me in the woods and brought me here."

Charlie didn't hesitate to give Edward an enthusiastic handshake, looking him firmly in the eye. "In that case, I believe I owe my daughter's life to you."

"Anyone would have done the same, Mr. Swan." I could tell Edward was reading Charlie's thoughts, and they seemed to embarrass him.

"Call me Charlie, and no, they wouldn't have."

We went inside, Charlie taking the chair Edward usually sat in, and Edward moving into the kitchen with an offer to make us coffee.

Charlie insisted I go first, so I told him what had happened at the Presentation, and why I'd run away. His face drew into a furious scowl when I told him about Simon Barrow, but he didn't look surprised.

"That son of a bitch." His face hardened even further, his thoughts moving inward. "He'll get his."

"What do you mean? What's going on, Charlie?"

He looked up at me, his expression softening. "I'm so sorry, Bella. This is all my fault. If I'd arranged a marriage for you, none of this woud have happened. I just couldn't bear to do it, though. I kept hoping something would change before you turned eighteen, but then the Bank raised my payments and everything was just gone before I could do anything about it."

"It's okay, dad, I don't blame you."

He didn't look appeased. "I should have protected you better. I should never have let you go to the home."

"There wasn't anything you could do about it." That reminded me, though. "What's this Edward tells me about FHG being spraypainted on walls in town?"

He smiled. "When you ran away, the home wouldn't tell me anything about what had happened, just that you were willfull and disobedient." His smile grew larger. "The police made a cursory search for you, but it wasn't until I happened to stop by my storage unit that I realized where you'd gone. Into the woods." He leaned back. "I almost went to the police to tell them that's where they should be searching, but then I thought fuck that. You'd be better off on your own. Or so I hoped." He glanced at Edward.

"Instead, I decided it was the last straw. If a seventeen-year-old girl would rather run away into the forest than live in our society, then things had to change. I started making posters."

"Posters?"

"It wasn't easy, but my buddies at the mill and I figured out a way to freeze the surveillance cameras. That got us into the office where we used the computers." Now he had an almost impish grin. "That was fun. Way more fun than sabotaging the machinery."

I heard Edward chuckle. He liked Charlie, but I was aghast. "What?"

"Oh, sure. The government should have known better than put a mechanic in charge of machines he didn't want to use. I single-handedly cut production by fifteen percent the first month I worked there."

"Dad!" I stood up, horrified. "Are you out of your mind? You'd be in so much trouble if they caught you. You'd go to prison!"

Edward made a small noise to get my attention, and gestured with his head for me to sit back down. He wasn't the least bit upset, and I realized there was a certain irony in me chastising my dad for taking dangerous risks.

Charlie too waved aside my concern. "The only time I thought we might get caught was when we started sneaking out at night to put up the posters. That was a little dicy, but we managed."

I took a breath, getting back my composure. "What did the posters say?"

"I used a picture of you when you were younger, and it said, 'Gone,' he gestured with his hand in front of him, 'How many more children are we willing to sacrifice?' Then I added FHG at the bottom." He looked at me proudly. "It's become a rallying cry."

I looked at Edward while I tried to absorb everything. "A rallying cry for whom?"

"The town. I wasn't not the only parent who felt like they'd lost a child for no reason. There are a lot of us who feel like enough's enough, and our numbers are growing every day."

"How do you know that?"

"Stuff like the FHG graffiti – that's wasn't me or my coworkers. Other people have begun to act up. Someone dumped red paint all over the front steps of the town hall last week. Someone else cut the power to the mayor's office, someone who knew what he was doing. It took two days for them to fix it." His eyes focused on the fireplace. "We just need to find a way to get organized. Then we can do some real damage."

I sat back in my chair, overwhelmed by what he'd told me. Nothing like what he'd described had ever happened once in my lifetime, let alone all within the few weeks I'd been gone.

Edward cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. "Let me know if I can help."

Charlie turned and gave him his full attention, looking him up and down appraisingly. "Before I do, I'd like to know a little more about the man who's been sleeping with my daughter for the last month."

**A/N: I just realized this is the first time I've written a Charlie/Edward meeting. Yikes.**

**Thanks as always to everyone who's reading and reviewing – I really appreciate the enthusiasm and support you're giving this story, and some of you are frankly too damn smart for your own good. One reviewer wondered how the well was drawing water without electricity, and that hadn't even occurred to me. Let's just imagine Edward pumps it every morning. Shirtless, of course.**

**- kts**


	18. Chapter 18

"Dad!" I'd forgotten how blunt Charlie could be, and how he liked to use it to throw others off.

Edward was nonplussed, however, and didn't deny it or defend himself. "What would you like to know?"

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Why aren't you in the army?"

"I'm not registered."

"You're not?" Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "How'd you manage that?"

Edward shrugged. "I guess I ran away, too."

"From where?"

"Not far from here."

"And you live here?" He gestured around the cabin.

"Yes." It was easy to imagine how Edward must have blended into society before the registrations. He kept his answers honest but short, not offering any more information than what he was asked.

"What's your last name again?"

"Cullen."

"Cullen. That sounds familiar."

Edward didn't answer, but I could feel him growing uncomfortable again.

"How exactly did you find Bella in the woods?"

Edward smiled. "I just ran into her."

"What were you doing out there?"

"Hunting."

Charlie narrowed his eyes a little. "That's illegal."

"Poaching, then," Edward's smile grew a little bigger.

"What kind of game were you hunting?"

"Small game."

"Huh. So you're a poacher."

"When I need to be."

"Dad," I interjected, "Edward helped me so much when he found me. He even saved me from drowning."

"What?"

"I slipped in the Quinault River trying to catch a fish and hit my head on a log. I blacked out. If Edward hadn't been there, I might have died."

"So you really did save her life." Charlie turned back to Edward. "I can't thank you enough for that."

"Like I said, anyone would have done the same."

Charlie didn't say anything for several moments, but I could by the way he was tapping his fingers on his knee that he was trying to make a decision.

"What are your intentions toward Bella?"

"I love her."

Charlie turned to me, and I smiled and nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out. "In that case, why don't you two get married and come back to Forks?"

"I don't want to get married, dad."

"And I don't want to register," Edward added, moving to lean back again the desk.

"You won't have to enlist if you're married."

"I know."

Charlie's eyes moved from Edward to the books behind him. "What's all this?" He got up and Edward stepped aside so that he could examine my workspace.

"Those are my books."

"Your books?" He picked one up while he took in all the others.

"This is what I've been doing since I got here." I got up and stood next to him. "I've been reading these books."

"These are college-level textbooks," he remarked, looking over the titles.

"I know."

"And in your favorite subjects. Did these just happen to be here?" He looked down at me, his face in a slight frown.

"No. Edward got them for me."

"From where?"

I didn't want to lie. "He gets them in Seattle."

Charlie glanced at Edward. "In Seattle."

"Yep." Hoping to deflect any questions about how Edward was able to get to Seattle and back, I pointed out the window. "He built me a greenhouse, too."

"Did he, now."

"Yes, dad." I hooked my arm through his, and leaned against him. "Don't worry. Edward takes very good care of me. He even does the cooking."

He looked down, reading my face. "He makes you happy?"

"I've never been happier in my life. No offense."

He chuckled at that. "None taken. I couldn't have gotten these for you." His eyes were back on the books.

"You got me my first one, though. That's all that matters."

Charlie turned and looked around the cabin, his eyes finally returning to Edward. "So you're not registered, and you avoided the draft."

"Correct."

"I like that. That takes gumption."

Edward didn't answer, but I could feel him growing uncomfortable.

"How are you going to provide for my daughter if you have to hide out for the rest of your life?"

"My family has some money."

"But she'll have to hide with you."

Edward's discomfort grew. "I know. Don't think that hasn't occurred to me. But if Bella ever wants to return to society, she's free to go."

"By herself."

"I'm afraid so."

"This is what you want, Bella?" Charlie turned back to me.

"Yes, dad, this is exactly what I want." There was no mistaking the certainty in my voice.

"Okay," he shrugged. "If you're sure."

"I am."

He looked out the window. "It's getting late and I need to get back before the end of the shift. I just wish there was a way to stay in better touch with you. You don't have phone service out here, I'm guessing."

"No, we don't," Edward answered.

"You could put a satellite on the roof, maybe."

Edward shook his head. "I'd have to be registered to order a phone service, to get a bill."

"It's probably just as well. Everyone's wiretapped these days. That's one of the reasons it's been so hard for us to organize."

"Edward makes it into Forks several times a week. Maybe you two could work out a way to exchange notes."

Charlie tipped his head at Edward. "You're the one who slipped Bella's note under my door last night?"

"Yes."

"How the hell did you get inside?"

"I climbed in a window." Edward was amused again, and struggling to keep a straight face.

"Huh." Charlie looked like he wanted to ask him something else, but he changed his mind and instead gave me a hug goodbye. "Then I'll be in touch with you soon, I hope."

"Okay."

"Walk me to the treeline?"

"Sure."

When we got to the trees, Charlie took another careful look at me. "Just a few weeks ago, I would have insisted that you come back to Forks."

"You would have?" Charlie was rarely if ever that authoritative with me.

He nodded. "There still would have been a chance for you to marry someone respectable. You know that's not possible now, don't you?"

"I don't care." Girls who lost their virginity before marriage, whether voluntarily or not, were withdrawn from the DNA matching pool and made available to the public at large. It was a system not unlike the one at the Home, but one that was open to every male rather than just a select few.

He nodded in agreement. "I don't care any more, either. You should be able to choose who you want, and if you want Edward, then you could have done worse."

I couldn't help but smile. Charlie wasn't one for fancy speeches, but I knew he'd just given us his blessing. "Thanks, dad."

"There are still a few things I don't get about him, though."

"Like what?"

"The Quinault River is almost thirty miles from here, and he just happened to find you out there?"

"I guess it was fate." I knew it was.

"The only windows that open at the dormitory are on the top floor. There's no way he could reach them. I know because we tried to get out that way the first night we snuck out with the posters."

"Edward's a very good climber."

"He must be. He must be a good hiker, too, if he makes it Forks and back on a regular basis."

"Dad, please don't worry. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me next to you."

He read the sincerity on my face and relented. Then something else seemed to occur him, and he cleared his throat, moving his eyes to the ground. "Listen, Bella, I was lucky to have married your mother. She was a good woman, a great one, actually, and I'll never forgive myself for what happened to her."

"It wasn't your fault she died." Charlie never talked about my mom unless it was to answer one of my questions about her.

"Yes, it was. We were young and believed what the government told us, that we should have as many children as possible. She never should have gotten pregnant again so soon after you were born. I blame myself for that."

"But you couldn't have known it would kill her."

"No, but in hindsight it was just so stupid. The night she lost the baby – I'm sure the reason she waited so long to tell me was because she thought she could save it somehow."

He paused again as if unsure of how to proceed.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm trying to tell you to be more careful than we were." He looked up at me, obviously wishing he didn't have to have this conversation. "Edward's not going to expect a passel of children, is he?"

"No. We've already talked about it. No babies."

He looked surprised and more than a little relieved.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

I smiled at the endearment, another rarity. Charlie had changed so much in the last year. "Why didn't you remarry?"

He smirked. "The government sent me a letter six months after your mother died, telling me who my next wife was going to be."

"It did?" He'd never told me that.

"I sent it back with a letter of my own."

"And?"

"They got the message."

I laughed out loud, remembering my attempts to dissuade Edward of his notion that I was his mate. Charlie'd obviously done a better job than me.

"He's not a regular person, is he?" The question seemed to be the one he'd wanted to ask me all along.

"No, not in some respects."

"What is he then?"

I smiled, now remembering my conversation with Edward back at the river. "He's amazing." I reached up to give Charlie another hug. "And so are you."

**A/N: Well, it had to happen. I didn't update last night because once I sat down with this chapter I decided it needed some work, but I had a houseful of noisy kids and couldn't concentrate. Still, I was on a pretty good roll there for a while, right?**

**Such sad news out of Colorado this morning. My heart goes out to all those poor victims and their families ...**

**- kts**


	19. Chapter 19

As summer continued, the days and nights began to blur together. At first I'd just lose track of the time as I read, but soon I was losing track of the day, the month. I could focus on my books, and I could focus on Edward, but apart from those two things, my mind seemed to give up paying attention to anything else.

In other words, I was in heaven.

Edward was, too. He'd taken up cooking, of all things, and spent most of his time in the kitchen. The meals he made for me were increasingly complex as his skills improved, and he began bringing ingredients back from Seattle whenever he went to get me more books. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that Esme had installed the kitchen for him as a way for him to reconnect to his human past, the smells and tastes triggering his memories to the extent that he now had huge chunks of his childhood back.

I smiled up at him now as he brought me a bowl of noodles. "Mmm, what's this?"

"Pasta carbonara."

I swirled some pasta onto my fork and took a bite. "Any memories?"

"Not this time," he shrugged. "But that's okay."

"It's more than okay. It's delicious."

I always complimented him on his food, but the truth was I didn't have a very refined palate, and couldn't taste the individual ingredients very well. To me it tasted like noodles and cream, but I'd watched as Edward had beaten eggs, grated cheese and fried bacon. My sense of taste seemed to be one of the things my mind didn't care about any longer, but luckily I still had my appetite.

After dinner I washed the dishes, which I'd insisted on doing once it became apparent that Edward was going to do the cooking, and then we went for our walk.

"What were you studying today?" He asked after we'd gotten about a mile into the woods.

"Cells."

"Was it interesting?"

"Yes," I smiled up at him. "It's always interesting, but today was hard. I had to wade through a lot of chemistry."

"Chemistry?"

"Yep. I was reading about all the different compounds and chemical signals plants give off when they're under stress."

"What kind of stress?"

"Usually an insect attack, but it could be anything that threatens the life or health of the plant. Did you know that certain plants can emit what's essentially a warning signal to other plants? And those plants, the ones who pick up the warning, then start creating defensive chemicals to protect themselves from the threat?"

Edward stopped and looked up into the trees. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," I laughed, "of course not."

We listened for a moment to the breeze blowing through the leaves above us. "So the trees are talking to each other?"

"Basically, I guess."

He looked down at me, his face a little in awe. "Who would have thought that in such a short time you'd be teaching me things."

I reached up and put my arms around his shoulders. "Oh, Edward, I barely know a fraction of what you do."

He pulled me into a hug, his arms tighter than usual. "Nothing I knew before seems relevant, though. It's what I've learned since I met you that matters."

I returned his hug, wondering if he meant cooking and construction. Then I felt his hands slide down to my hips and I smiled into his neck. He meant me. "Take me to our spot," I whispered, and the next thing I knew he was carrying me though the woods at breakneck speed.

"Whatever my woman wants, my woman gets," he smiled when he stopped to put me down gently. We'd found this clearing several weeks ago, and it was my favorite place on the Cullen property apart from the cabin itself.

"Your woman wants her mate," I smiled back, thinking how ironic it was that I loved it when he called me his woman. If anyone else had ever called me that, they'd have been lucky to walk away in one piece. Edward never meant it with any possessiveness, though, his emotion only one of pride and gratitude.

"She does?"

"Yes." I stepped out of his hug and moved to the center of the clearing, shrugging off my dress and dropping it onto the moss-covered ground. "Now come here."

He was naked and next to me in a heartbeat, his cool hands running down my back and over my behind. The days were getting shorter and the sun was low in the sky, filtering through the trees and lighting the clearing at an angle, creating an almost ethereal effect. Edward's skin had an odd quality in the sun, and I ran my hands over his shoulders, trying to think of the right word in latin.

"Illustris," I finally said. "Or maybe lustrous is better."

"Are you giving me a botanical name?"

"I'm trying. Edwardum Illustrum?"

"And that means?" He began kissing my neck, and my thoughts quickly began to scatter.

"Shiny Edward, I think."

I felt him chuckle, and then he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his hips. "Lusty Edward is better."

"Okay," I agreed.

He laid me down on the moss, keeping my legs around his hips while he began kissing my shoulders and working his way down to my breasts. I kept my eyes open, watching the trees move with the breeze above Edward's head, wondering if it were possible for my life to get any better and deciding that it wasn't.

Edward was at my stomach now, and he lifted his head enough to look up at me. "Is there a word for delicious?"

"Deliciosus."

"Mmm," he returned to my body. "Cygnus Deliciosus."

It was possible for my world to get better. Even in latin, Edward called me Swan instead of Bella.

Minutes later I was recovering from my first climax, my hands releasing the clumps of moss I'd fisted during its peak while Edward climbed back up my body, nudging my legs apart with his. Impulsively I reached for his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, sitting up on his thighs and taking in his beauty.

"You're the one that should have been named Bella," I smiled, running my hands over his smooth chest. "You're so beautiful."

He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ears. "No, that name suits you perfectly. I just prefer Swan."

"Because of my neck."

"Yes." His hands moved down to my throat and he caressed me with his thumbs. "Elegantissima."

I raised my eyebrows in approval, while my own hands worked their way down his stomach. "Erectus."

He closed his eyes as I took him in hand, a small moan escaping his lips. It amazed me how much he responded to my touch. Sometimes all I had to do was put a hand on his shoulder and he'd get that look in his eye, but when I actually touched him here, where he was the most sensitive, he became mine entirely.

We'd discovered what our bodies liked together, taking turns with one another, and I knew Edward liked it when I gripped him firmly. His body was naturally already so hard that anything less felt more like a tickle than a caress. I ran my hands up and down his shaft, squeezing a little more than usual.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "don't stop."

"Harder?"

"Yes."

I did the same thing again, but this time put even more effort into it. I watched his face as I stroked him, knowing that I wasn't strong enough to hurt him, but wondering if I was overdoing it.

He moaned again. "Get up here. Get up here now." He clutched at my hips, begging me silently to seat myself on him. I was happy to comply and since I was on top, I didn't hesitate or go slow.

"Jesus Christ, girl," he growled. "What you do to me."

"What you do to me," I gasped, already moving on him.

What we did to each other, I thought, as I watched his face. He was getting close, I could tell, and the knowledge spurred me to move faster. I never felt more alive than when we were like this together, my body having grown strong and healthy over the past weeks. Even though our walks were my only exercise and I spent most of my days reading, I credited my good health to Edward's attentive cooking and the restorative sleep I got when he was in the cabin with me.

He opened his eyes as his climax approached to see if I was close, too. When he saw that I wasn't, he quickly flipped us over and found the angle I needed, his thrusts harder and faster than usual. I relished his energy, my body eagerly reaching up to his, and it was only another minute or two before we were both spent, our heavy breathing drowing out the forest noises around us.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He finally asked.

"Of course not. I said I'd tell you if you ever did."

"You're getting so strong." He turned me in his arms so he could see my face.

"You've noticed that, too?"

He picked up one of my hands and examined it. "Squeeze my hand as hard as you can."

I did and his eyebrows rose. "Wow."

"What?"

He started to get a mischievous grin. "My woman has a kung-fu grip."

I could tell he was pleased, and for once in a selfish way. "Lucky you."

"Lucky me."

**A/N: Kind of a fluffy chapter, but things start to move along after this. I hope you all are patient with me as my posting begins to slow down - what am I saying, of course you will be. You're awesome. I only have a few more chapters written after this and I'm a little stuck in the current one, but I'll work it out.**

**Hope you liked the chapter - kts**


	20. Chapter 20

Some weeks later I was skimming through my notebook, wondering if I should be worried. I didn't use the notebook for keeping notes as I read, the original reason Edward had bought it for me, because I seemed to have a photographic memory for what I was reading. Instead, I used it to keep lists of things I didn't want to forget, like what seeds I wanted Edward to look for on his next trip to Seattle, and plants I wanted to try growing in the greenhouse. It kept the clutter out of my mind so that I could focus on my reading, but now, as I looked at the first page, I frowned in confusion.

I'd written FHG in big letters, underlined them several times, and even added a couple of exclamation points. But why? Something about Charlie's 'rallying cry' had been important to me back when I'd first gotten the notebook, but now I couldn't remember what that had been.

Was that normal? How could I retain an entire textbook of complex scientific jargon, yet be unable to retrieve a memory that had obviously been important to me just weeks ago? Or had it been months? I got up and checked the calendar I'd asked Edward to get to help me keep the days straight. It was August 22th. I'd run away in early June, so I'd been here with Edward for over two months already.

I felt better knowing that it had been that long, but still it troubled me that I couldn't remember. It wasn't the first thing I'd forgotten, either. Maybe when Edward got back tonight, I'd ask him what he thought.

I moved over the windows by the desk. It was darkening early tonight, and today for the first time I'd felt a touch of autumn in the air. We probably had another month of dry weather before the fall rains started, but already I could feel that summer was nearing its end. I didn't mind, though. I was looking forward to spending the rest of the year in the cabin, and beyond that if possible.

I knew Charlie would have preferred it if we moved back to Forks, but I didn't want to. Not only did I feel oddly attached to the cabin, but Edward had told me enough of what the world had been like when he'd lived in it that I knew I wouldn't be able to bear having to conform to the way it was now. I'd absolutely refused to believe that women used to vote, that they could come and go from their homes whenever they pleased, and that they could divorce their husbands if they wanted to, without even giving a reason. None of that seemed even remotely possible, but as he told me more I began to realize that the world I'd grown up in was a fairly new society, not the well-established, historic one the government would have had us believe.

It wasn't until Edward told me that just as many women as men used to graduate from college every year and go on to have careers that I truly realized I couldn't go back. I wouldn't be able to contain my resentment. I'd probably assault men at random just out of sheer fury at the unfairness.

I sighed again. I knew it wasn't all men. Charlie wasn't like that, and it sounded like more and more men were joining his group of subversive agents every week. They were apparently wreaking quite a bit of havoc on Forks, having found a way to organize. They'd started meeting in Charlie's storage unit until their numbers outgrew the space. Then another guy had a garage, another a basement. Tonight they were meeting at a bar, the owner having lost a son to the wars at the age of nineteen.

That's where Edward was tonight – at the meeting. He liked being a part of society again, liked feeling useful. He'd told me the other men didn't mind that he wasn't registered, and actually looked up to him for it. The fact that he was Charlie's de facto son-in-law didn't hurt his reputation, either. They knew I was alive and with Edward, and it only served to raise him in their estimation.

I started pacing, looking at the clock I'd asked Edward to buy me when he started going to the meetings. I needed him to come back, and soon. It was eight-thirty, so the meeting was just ending. He should be back within minutes.

But he didn't come back. I stared at the clock, watching the minute hand tick, reminded of something. I'd watched a clock before, and I'd been upset, but that's all I could remember. I tried to reassure myself that maybe the meeting was just going longer than planned, but my agitation continued to grow as I returned to pacing.

By nine o'clock I knew something was wrong. Edward would have left the meeting before it ended rather than cause me this much distress. But what could possibly be keeping him? I pulled the door open and walked out to the treeline. It was too dark for me to see into the trees, but I kept still on the off-chance I'd be able to hear him coming.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was something out there, something bad. I had no idea how I knew, but I was sure of it. I took a couple of steps backward, toward the cabin, keeping my eyes on the dark trees in front of me. Part of me knew I should go back inside, but all I could think of was Edward. Where was he? Was he safe?

Something crashed in the woods off to the east. It sounded like a tree falling, and was rapidly followed by another crash. Whatever was happening, it was far away enough that I couldn't hear any other noises, just the enormous crashes of giant trees. More came, and then more, this time closer and to the south. I tried to make sense of what I was hearing, but I couldn't. There weren't any animals in the forest big enough to be making these noises, and the crashes weren't accompanied by the buzz of saws – and who in their right mind would be sawing down trees at night?

A scream rose from the woods then, and I stepped back again, my heart pounding. Another scream, and then a third one that sounded like the cry an animal makes when it's dying, horrible and high-pitched. I felt my stomach drop and I was frozen in place as the woods returned to silence. Whatever had happened was over.

If Edward had been involved, he should be back any second, but still he didn't come. I scanned the treeline, hoping to catch any sign of movedent, however small, but there was nothing – nothing but the occasional shift of branches or fluttering of leaves.

"Edward," I whispered, saying aloud the mantra I'd been repeating in my head for the last half-hour, "come back. Come back to me."

What was that? Something moved in the woods, something about twenty feet inside the trees. It moved again, coming closer. It was about the right size and shape to be Edward, but there was something wrong with the way it was moving. It was too slow, too clumsy. Oh my god, Edward was hurt.

"Edward!" I ran into the woods until I reached him. My eyes had adjusted enough to the night that I could see he was badly injured. His left arm was mangled and he had a huge gash on his right shoulder. He was breathing in gasps and seemed to be struggling to stay upright. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tried to help him move toward the cabin.

"Stupid girl," he coughed, his voice hoarse. "What are you doing out here?"

"Helping my crazy man. Now come on."

We made it to the cabin and Edward collapsed onto his chair while I brought a lamp over to check his wounds. They looked really bad, all of them filthy and oozing venom.

"What do I do, Edward? Should I clean them?"

He looked down at his shoulder. "Please."

I ran to the kitchen and got a towel wet at the sink. My hands were shaking and I took a breath, trying to compose myself. I had to be calm. I had to help Edward.

When I returned to him, I gently eased off his shirt and wiped as delicately as I could at his injuries. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He shook his head.

"What happened?"

"Another vampire." It seemed difficult for him to speak, so I didn't ask him anything for the next few minutes while I worked. I was pretty sure I could figure out the rest, anyway. Edward had told me once that different vampires had different levels of strength, and that the only way to destroy one was to rip it into pieces. He'd obviously fought this other vampire, and thank god he'd been the stronger one.

As I continued wiping, Edward's skin began to heal itself. I watched in amazement as his cleaned wounds slowly began to close, and let out a huge sigh of relief. He was going to be okay. I smiled and glanced up at him, about to tell him so, but something was still wrong. He was losing consciousness.

"Edward," I shook him lightly. "Edward!"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? Your wounds are healing, but you're getting worse."

"I am?" He didn't seem to know what I was talking about.

Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all. He was the only one who knew how to heal himself, and he if wasn't able to tell me what to do, then he might die right before my eyes whether he'd been ripped apart or not.

"Look at me, Edward." I took his face in my hands and got his attention. His eyes had a far-away look but at least he was listening. "You're getting worse. What do I do? What do you need?"

It seemed to take him a few seconds to figure it out. "Blood," he finally answered, looking down at his shoulder again. "I've lost too much venom." He made a movement to get up. "I have to go to the farm." He collapsed back into the chair, his eyes closed.

I didn't even think twice about what I did next. Edward's life was at stake, and there was no way he was fit to travel to the dairy farm, no way I was able to run out and catch an animal for him. Instead I ran back to the kitchen and got a knife. I closed my eyes and made a quick sweep with the knife, letting it fall to the floor when I was done and hurrying back to Edward.

"Here. Drink." I held my palm up to his face, but he didn't respond.

"Edward!" I could hear the panic in my voice as I shook him again, not gently this time. "Wake up!"

His eyelids fluttered, and I held my hand up again, this time bringing to his mouth.

"Drink, Edward, please!"

His mouth opened slightly and I felt him begin to suck. I perched on his knee, watching him as he sucked again. His eyes opened and he frowned, realizing what was happening. He tried to pull away, but I shook my head and pushed my hand more firmly to his mouth. He didn't argue this time and sucked again, keeping his eyes on mine.

It didn't hurt. I really couldn't feel anything but a gentle sucking. But even if it had hurt, I wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was that with each swallow his eyes were getting more lucid. He brought one hand up to my arm, helping me hold it up, and brought his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer. We kept our eyes on each other's as he drank, and I smiled as I caught the first emotion he'd given off since returning. I shook my head in response. He didn't need to thank me for anything.

After another minute or two, I felt him stop and lick my cut closed

"Did you get enough?" I didn't feel light-headed or weak, or anything. I felt fine.

Instead of answering, he pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, his head pressed to mine. His emotions were back in full force, and his love and gratitude had never been stronger. He brought a hand up to my hair and kissed my head, then cupped my chin and lifted my face.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

I could feel his remorse and it puzzled me, seeming out of proportion to the circumstances. It wasn't his fault he'd had to fight another vampire, especially if it had been one that drank human blood and was near the cabin.

"For what?"

He swept his thumb over my cheek. "I told you once that I'd never change you without your permission."

"What are you talking about?" Was he still not quite all together?

"Your blood."

"What about it?"

"It has venom in it."

**A/N: Pat yourselves on the back, those of you who guessed it! **


	21. Chapter 21

I looked at him blankly. "My blood has venom in it?"

He nodded, his fingers lightly tracing my cheek. "Quite a bit, actually. That's why I didn't need to drink very much."

"Quite a bit?" I was in shock, reduced to parroting him while I tried to figure out what this meant.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not seeming to know what to say either.

"But how?"

He shook his head, as puzzled as I was.

I held up one of my hands and looked at it. "I'm turning into a vampire?"

"I don't know."

I got off his lap and moved to my desk, fingering my notebook. "That would explain my memory problem."

"Your memory problem?"

"I've been forgetting things. Things that happened before coming here with you. I was worried there was something wrong with me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

I heard him get up and come to stand behind me. "Swan, I'm so sorry."

I closed my eyes and leaned back against him, feeling his arms come around me. "It's okay. I think."

"It's okay?"

"I think so. At least it explains things. Like how strong I've gotten." I pulled his arms around me more tightly for emphasis, settling into his embrace. He fit around me perfectly. "Have you noticed anything else?"

"I thought maybe I'd imagined it, but lately when we've – you know – you don't feel as warm as you used to."

He lowered his face and I rested my cheek against his. His skin still felt cool to me, and I hadn't noticed a difference when we were intimate, but his words reminded me of our first time.

"That's how it happened." I turned in his arms. "I was right."

"Right about what?"

"Every time we have sex, you inject me with a little bit of venom. It must have gradually been absorbed into my bloodstream."

He groaned and pulled me nearer, putting one of his arms across my shoulder and holding me tightly. "That never occurred to me."

"It occurred to me."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because at the time I didn't care." I smiled into his chest, remembering how much I'd wanted him that night in the bathtub. "I still don't."

"You don't?"

I shook my head. "I've been thinking about us. About the future. I don't want you to be alone again after I die."

He was silent for several moments. "You shouldn't make your decision based on my happiness. You should make it based on your own. Being a vampire isn't all septic tanks and greenhouses. Tonight, for instance."

"I know." I lifted my head and ran my hand over his healed left arm. "But it might be too late to make a decision."

"Maybe if we stop having sex, the venom will leave your body."

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

I didn't need to feel his sincerity to know he meant it. He'd never put his wants above mine. But I didn't want to put mine before his, either. However much venom was inside of me was enough for me to know that we were meant to be together forever. We were mates and we made each other happy. No, it was more than that. Our happiness depended on each other's. I had to make a choice.

"I want to be a vampire," I smiled up at him.

"You do?" He rested his forehead on mine, his reaction one of immediate joy.

"Yes."

He embraced me again, holding me so fiercely to him that it almost hurt. I hugged him back as hard as I could and he got the message, his arms relaxing.

"So now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's next? You'll have to bite me, right? To inject more venom?"

"I guess that's one way we could do it," he laughed, moving his hands down to circle my waist.

"What other way is there?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've kind of been enjoying the method we've been using." The way his eyes lit up when he was teasing me was the best thing I'd seen since he'd returned.

"The rhythm method?" I laughed, so relieved that he was himself again.

"Hm-hmm. With extra rhythm." He tilted my head and kissed my neck. I warmed at his words, but he wasn't feeling desire. He was feeling puzzled again. "You saved my life tonight."

"You saved mine back at the river, so we're even."

His grip on me tightened, but his mood didn't change. "No, there was something about your blood. It was the perfect antidote to my injuries."

I looked up at him. Now I was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Human blood is always more restorative than animal, but yours, with the venom in it – it was like being offered the perfect cure when you held your hand up to me."

"That's good, right?" I shrugged.

He didn't answer at first. "I've never seen this happen before. You're somewhere between being human and being vampire. It doesn't happen like this."

"How does it usually happen?"

"When a human is injected, either they get enough venom to make it happen or they don't. If they do, the change happens within a matter of hours. They go from being human to being vampire, usually while they're unconscious. There's no middle ground."

His confusion was turning to concern, but I didn't understand why he would be worried. "Maybe this has happened before but you just don't know about it."

"Maybe." He ran a hand over my hair. "I just wish I knew more about what to expect. Are you on your way to becoming a vampire, or are you stuck in some kind of limbo between the two, or would you revert back to being completely human if we stopped having sex?"

"Why are you so concerned?" I tilted my head so I could see his face. "You said my blood was the perfect antidote, so this has got to be a good thing, doesn't it?"

"Tonight it was, but if and when you actually change, there's going to be a moment when your heart stops beating."

"And?"

"If you don't have enough venom in your system when that happens, you might not survive."

"So inject me with more venom." I flicked my hair back, offering him my neck. "Let's get it over with."

He smiled down at me. "You're so fearless. I love that about you."

"I have my fears. You know that."

His smile faded. "That's another thing to consider. I know you don't want to have children, but once you're a vampire, you can't ever change your mind."

"Now you're just making up excuses to stall. You're the only man I'd ever want to have children with, and you're sterile, so that's a moot point."

He pulled me closer and brought his head down to mine. "You'd want to have children with me?" The idea seemed to please him enormously.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" He kissed my ear.

I laughed a little, his kiss so light it tickled. "It's not an issue, but yes, okay? I'd want to have children with you if we could." I hadn't thought about it before, but I realized now it was true. He'd have made an excellent father, and the dread I used to harbor of pregnancy seemed like the silly fears of a girl I'd been a lifetime ago. Now I was in a safe place, with a wonderful man, and my health had never been better. The idea of becoming pregnant no longer terrified me.

He held me for a long time without answering. "I love you so much, Swan."

"I love you, too."

"Which is why I think we should try to find out more about what's happening to you before we do anything."

I pulled away to look up at him.

"You already have venom in your blood. I don't know what will happen if I inject you with too much."

"I could overdose or something?"

"I don't know. Like I said, this has never happened before."

"I don't suppose there's a vampire section at the library in Seattle? Maybe there's a book that can tell us." I'd said it jokingly, but his eyes widened at my suggestion.

"No, there isn't a book. But there is a person."

"Who?"

"Carlisle."

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. At first I was hesitating to post it because I thought it needed more work, but then the news hit about Robsten and I was completely thrown – not just mentally out of this story but for a total loop about what happened. Girl, what were you thinking? I suspect we'll never know – and that's okay, it's none of our business. I was 22 once too, and did some really stupid stuff that I'm thankful the whole world doesn't know about.**

**I'm kind of glad I took a small reprieve because this chapter needed more fleshing out (it probably still does). I'd written as a bit of a stand-off, but I made them more affectionate because that's how they'll always be in my head. The maternal side of me just hopes everyone emerges unscathed. They all have lots of years ahead of them to find what and who they want.**

**Lastly, I don't remember the reviewer who said this Bella was fearless, but it's feedback like that that helps shape my writing. I hadn't realized until then that she really was, so thanks!**

**– kts**


	22. Chapter 22

I woke up later and more slowly than usual the next morning, not because I wasn't well-rested but because I was well-used. I'd reached for Edward during the night, needing the reassurance of his touch, but while I'd have been content to merely cuddle, he'd quickly felt such a powerful wave of desire that it lit my own and within seconds we were both desperate for each other. At first I tried to slow him down, worried about his injuries, but if anything he'd felt more energized – more alive – than ever before.

I rolled over and stretched, a smile growing on my lips as I remembered how he'd flipped me over and taken me roughly from behind. The knowledge that I had venom in my system had seemed to excite him, and he'd been less concerned with my fragility than he was with relishing the idea that I'd be with him forever.

God, his voice. So low, so passionate, as he'd whispered everything he was going to do me after I became a vampire and couldn't be injured. He'd reached into my hair and pulled my head up to his, his other arm snaking around my hips, holding me to him almost ferociously. I shivered at the memory. His voice had sent a vibrato through my body that only intensified as he held me so tightly, and I'd come harder than I'd ever thought possible.

We hadn't had morning sex yet, and suddenly it seemed like a good idea. A very good idea.

"Edward," I called out, knowing he was probably in the kitchen. "Come up here."

No answer.

"Crazy man," I raised my voice, letting a moan slip in. "Come up here and get all crazy on me again, like you did last night."

Still no answer. Where was he?

I got up, not caring that I wasn't dressed. What was the point of clothes, anyway? All the best things in life happened without – oh, shit.

I yanked the curtain shut and stumbled backward. We had company. Edward had been standing by the fireplace with the most amused look I'd ever seen on his face, and two other people were sitting in our chairs, their faces politely blank. Shit!

I heard Edward clear his throat. "Swan? Or perhaps I should call you Stupid Girl? Would you like to come down and meet Carlisle and Esme?"

"No. Yes."

He laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. Get dressed and come down."

"Okay." I scrambled for some clothes, beside myself with mortification. If there was a way for me to hide out up here all day, I might have taken it. But I was dying to meet Esme, so I pulled myself together and climbed down the ladder.

They both rose to meet me, and I extended my hand to Carlisle first. "I'm Bella."

"It's such a pleasure to meet you." His smile was so welcoming that my embarrassment quickly began to dissipate.

"It's more than a pleasure," Esme reached out to pull me into a hug. "It's a joy."

As soon as her arms were around me, I felt the same energy I had when I'd first entered the cabin. It had been her. I brought my hands up to the back of her shoulders, returning her hug. She had a scent not unlike Edward's, although it didn't feel sedating either. Instead, her embrace felt immediately maternal and it was easy to imagine her assuming the role of the other Cullens' mother.

I should have remembered my manners and thanked her for letting us use her cabin, but instead I said the first thing I was thinking. "How did you get here so fast?"

"Edward came and got us last night. Well, he came to talk to Carlisle, but we insisted on coming down to meet you."

I pulled away to look at her better. She was in her mid to late thirties, her auburn hair shoulder length, her eyes the same color as Edward's. Maybe it was the length of time I'd been in the cabin, combined with wearing her clothes, but I felt like I already knew her, like we'd known each other for a long time.

She seemed to feel the same way, content to smile at me without speaking.

"I broke your figurine. The one of the swan. I'm so sorry."

Her smile widened. "I'm just so happy you're here. With Edward." She reached up and ran her fingers like a comb through what must have been my very tousled hair.

I was surprised to feel tears forming in my eyes at her touch. I never cried. I swallowed and blinked, trying to stay composed.

She noticed my reaction and smiled again. "Edward told us all about you, but he didn't do you justice. You're lovely. Just lovely."

"Thank you. So are you."

"That's kind of you to say, but I don't feel very lovely after that run."

"You ran all the way from Alaska?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd walk to meet my new daughter?"

"Daughter?"

"I hope you don't mind that I think of you that way. Edward will always be a son to me," she smiled at him, "and since you're his mate, that makes you part of our family."

"No, I don't mind." I didn't. Not at all. But I was still floored that they'd run all the way from Alaska. "When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I'm sorry if we woke you."

"I wish you had." I turned to Edward. "When did you leave last night?"

"I guess it was around two."

I wondered if that had been one of the reasons he'd been so vigorous with me last night – so that I'd sleep deeply enough not to notice he'd left. He reached out a hand to me, and I slipped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"So you ran all the way to Alaska and back, and after what happened last night? Are you feeling all right?"

"I've never felt better," he answered, kissing my head. "I told you, your blood was the perfect cure."

"About that." Carlisle reached down and picked a small bag up off the floor, moving over to the desk and opening it. "I was wondering if you'd let me take a small sample."

"Of my blood?"

"Yes." He pulled out a syringe and some vials. "When Edward told me about the venom in your blood, I almost refused to believe him. I've never heard of such a thing."

"You haven't?" I sat down in my chair and offered Carlisle my arm.

"Never. Of course, it's been a while since we lived among people, and it's harder now for vampires to communicate as well, but still – something like this would have gotten around if it had happened before."

I watched as Carlisle went to work. Edward had told me he used to be a doctor, and it didn't look like his skills has dulled any since he'd left society. He was done drawing the sample in no time and then gave me a quick physical, checking my blood pressure and listening to my heartbeat.

"Edward tells me you've been feeling stronger."

"A little."

"What other changes have you noticed?"

"I've been forgetting things that happened before I met Edward."

"Interesting. Any changes in appetite or sleep?"

"My appetite's good, although I seem to losing my sense of taste." I glanced at Edward, not having told him that. "And sleeping is fine, as long as Edward's here. I don't sleep as well when he's out."

"But overall, you feel okay?"

"I feel great. I've never felt healthier, to be honest."

"Hmm. Well, I don't know what to tell you. I'll do some bloodtests when I get home, and then I'll try to come back in a couple weeks to see you again. I suspect the only way we'll be able to tell if you're advancing into becoming a vampire is by checking your blood regularly. In the meantime, though, I don't see any cause for alarm."

He packed up his bag and Edward gestured for him to follow him outside, leaving me with Esme. She sat down across from me. "Now we can talk about the important things."

I smiled. "Like what?"

"Like how you two met."

I told her how he'd knocked me down in the forest, thinking I was an animal because he couldn't hear my thoughts.

"Why were you in the forest?"

"I was running away."

"From what?"

I paused and searched my memory. "See, this is what I mean about forgetting things. It had to be bad enough for me to run away, but I can't remember what it was." I got up and moved to the desk. "But I can memorize an entire textbook. Is that normal?"

Esme nodded. "Your memories slip away gradually, while at the same time your mind can focus with amazing precision. I used to write things down so I wouldn't forget them."

"I tried that." I flipped open my notebook. "But now I don't always remember why something was important to me. That's what bothers me the most. I feel like I'm forgetting something important." I ran my finger over the FHG on the first page.

"Would Edward know?"

"He might. Charlie might, too."

"Charlie?"

"My dad. He lives in Forks."

"Oh, how nice. You haven't forgotten him, at least."

"You mean I will?" I turned to her in dismay. "Like Edward had forgotten his mother?"

"I don't know. Like Carlisle said, this kind of gradual transformation is unheard of. Maybe if you change slowly enough, you'll be able to remember more than the rest of us do."

Esme's voice was naturally comforting, and I smiled, feeling better already.

"When I started to forget things, I realized that the first things to go were the least important – things I didn't need to worry about."

"Like how I forgot to tell Charlie I was okay," I sighed in relief. Of course. I still felt bad about that, but he'd been just fine – worried about me, but fine.

Esme smiled, her expression turning curious. "What do you mean by Edward 'had' forgotten his mother?"

"I'd brought a bottle of chocolate syrup with me when I ran away. When Edward smelled it, he could see her face again."

"Really. That's remarkable."

"Other foods help, too. He's remembered a lot of his childhood since we've been here."

She stood and joined me at the desk. "So you've given him back some of his humanity, and he's given you some of his vampirism."

"I guess so," I said, laughing a little, but she could tell I was still upset and pulled me in for another hug.

"It's going to be all right, Bella. I know it is."

I felt myself tearing up again. What was the matter with me? "Esme, can I ask you something weird?"

"Of course. You can ask me anything."

"Did you build this cabin for me? I know that sounds presumptuous, but I felt something when I first walked in."

She let me out of the hug but kept her hands on my arms. "Yes and no. I built it hoping Edward would have use of it someday. It always made me so sad that he was alone. I was hoping he'd find his mate and bring her here."

"If you build it, she will come?" I smiled.

"Exactly. And it worked."

"How did you know to put in a kitchen, though?"

She sighed and started straightening my hair again. "I don't have the same gifts Edward and Alice do, but I've learned to trust my instincts over the years, and they haven't let me down yet. Something told me the cabin needed a kitchen, and I didn't argue with myself about it. I just did it."

I nodded and gestured toward my books. "I sort of get what you mean. I have no idea why it's so important to me to learn all this, I just know it is."

"Trust your instincts, then, and keep learning."

"I will."

"And keep being so good for Edward."

I had to laugh a little at that. "He's the one who's good for me, Esme."

"I remember feeling that way when I met Carlisle," she smiled, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "Trust me, though. You're the best thing that's ever happened to him."

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. I'm having more trouble than I expected getting my head back into the story but don't worry - I will finish it; it just might take longer than I'd thought. Plus my kids are out of school, which makes it harder for me to write. And it's 90 degrees here again today, so my brain cells are melting. Good enough reasons for the delay, I hope :)**

**- kts**


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